Lightning on the Horizon
by Blackadder261
Summary: Chloe knew before she hit the floor that she was dead. As it turns out, death isn't quite the end of her ordeal. The universe, it seems, has something more in store for her... Part 1 of the Horizon series, Part 2 out now (WIP)
1. Her

The sharp crack of the handgun reverberating around the tiled bathroom deafened Chloe. Her body was numb, but her brain knew that she was dead before she hit the floor. A 9mm to the chest at point-blank would do that. As her head clattered against the tiled floor, its dingy white stained by an ever- increasing crimson pool. The last thing that her subconscious registered before the last connections between brain and eyes failed was a figure, sat, slumped almost, against the far end of the stalls, sobbing quietly.

 _Max..._

Chloe's sight gave out with a blinding white as her hearing slurred with a bang as the bathroom door was kicked in.

Chloe snapped upright, finding herself in a white room. Not the surgical white of an Operating Theatre, nor the dingy white of that bathroom. No, this was something else. She stood up and faced what appeared to be a porthole. Her eyes widened as she saw what it beheld, as it moved in slow motion. Her body, lying motionless in a pool of blood with a gunshot wound. Nathan Prescott frantically trying to provoke some response from her, still unable to believe what he had just done. Just out of his sight, where Chloe had seen her... sat Max. The pool forming on the floor tore at Chloe's heart. Yet at the same time, the emotion of heartbreak at seeing Max so distraught was countered by those of abandonment. And anger.

"You were in there Max. You could've done something. Why the fuck didn't you do something?" She screamed at the image, shaking with anger, and to a somewhat lesser extent sadness. There was so much she wanted to say to Max- admittedly, most of it not polite- and now that opportinity would never arise.

Tears were pooling in Chloe's eyes. She hadn't cried like this since her Dad's funeral.

"I still believed you cared, Max. But...you never did...did you? You fucking let me die!"

"Wrong again, shit-for-brains!" Chloe jumped at both the voice behind her, and the sound of the approaching footsteps. A hollow clunking, not like trainers but not like a prosthetic. She turned to face the approaching unknown. She gasped as her mind fully registered the details.

The necklace, with a trio of bullets strung to it, the battered leather jacket and jeans, suspenders hanging loose below a vest top with a skull, the black boots. And a beanie concealing a brilliant blue mess of hair.

"You're-"

"You. Yes. Surprised?" This version of herself stopped about four feet from her. Chloe backed up against what she assumed was a wall, or maybe some kind of barrier, in this odd place.

"Max _does_ give a fuck about you, which is why she didn't save you this time. Your fault, actually."

"W...what do you mean... _this time?_ "

"What do you think I mean, or have all those years of using drugs gone to your head? Wierd as it sounds, Max... found that she could manipulate time itself. Twist it round her fucking fingers and rewrite the present, and the future."

"Bullshit! It's not even possible!"

"Man, if I had a dollar for every time you've been wrong just now, I'd probably have enough to go to Paris myself, little miss Einstein. In case you missed it, this wasn't the only timeline, if you'd care to open your motherfucking eyes."

Other-Chloe gestured at another porthole that had formed in place of the one Chloe was up against.

"Max set off the alarm that time around, and saved you. Which led everything else to go to shit."

Chloe snapped. She didn't take this kind of smack-talk from anyone- even herself.

"Then what the fuck posessed her to come back and un-save me?! That doesn't seem like something a _friend_ would do!"

Other-Chloe sighed slightly. "Like I said, _that_ was your fault, entirely. Like getting your dumb ass shot in the first place."

The image in the porthole changed again. The lighthouse. Chloe remembered every day she'd spent with Max there, playing at pirates and repurposing the map, under that construct that stood Sentinel over the Bay.

This time, it was dark. As though the sun were blotted out, likely so with so much cloud cover. And... a tornado?

 _This can't be real! Tornadoes are virtually unheard of in Oregon, and they're never that fucking big!_

"I know what you're thinking," said the Other-Chloe, now stood with a hand on her shoulder, "This isn't real. Well, it was. Or it would have been, had Max stepped in and saved you once again. Four days from now, the Universe pulls this on the Bay. Tears it to the fucking ground. All because she though that your sorry life was still worth something."

"No...it...it can't be!"

"What? Not so keen on turning the place to glass now, are we?" Chloe turned to stare the Other in the eyes.

"Bu...but... how the fuck is this _my_ fault?!"

"How? Really? Let me help you get it into your damn skull!"

With that, Other-Chloe headbutted Chloe in the bridge of the nose. As Chloe collapsed to the ground, groaning and clutching her bleeding nose, Other-Chloe staggered about, giving a slight groan before laughing.

"I totally forgot, headbutting something as thick and braindead as you would hurt that much."

Chloe felt herself being grabbed by the shoulders and dragged onto her feet, before her head was taken in a hand and twisted to view another porthole.

 _"Max, this is the only way. You could use that... to change everything, right back to when you took the photo. All that would take is for me to... to..."_

 _"No...no way! Fuck that, you are my number one priority now!"_

"See? _YOU_ gave her that as an option. Heh, it's the first time you've cared about anything other than yourself in forever. I've something else to show you, too: you remember Rachel, right?"

Chloe's blood ran cold. The mention of her name, now of all times, was a hella bad precursor.

 _R...Rachel? No, no! She can't be- she isn't dead!_

"I knew you'd think that. Here, take a look." The view changed again.

American Rust, in a little corner by that old school bus and the pile of signs. A small hole in the ground, maybe a foot square, and a few inches deep. An object covered by a blue tarpaulin. A few feet to one side and sobbing inconsolably was Chloe, with Max trying desperately to comfort her.

Chloe couldn't believe it.

"No! No fucking way is that true! Rachel's alive and I know it!"

Other-Chloe shook her head, visibly shaken by seeing this for the second time.

"I wouldn't bullshit where Rachel's concerned. Or Max, come to think of it. Because if you think that's bad, just you wait."

The view changed yet again. Arcadia Bay Cemetery. Three headstones next to one another. In the center, Dad's, with Chloe's name beneath it She took a closer look at the left headstone.

 _Rachel Amber. 7.22.1994-4.2013_

A sense of dread filled Chloe's stomach, as the occupant of the third grave occurred to her.

 _Maxine 'Max' Caulfield 9.21.1995-2.11.2013_

Chloe collapsed against the side of the barrier, hardly believing either. Tears welled up in her eyes: the two people who meant most to her in the world, dead.

"You see, _Chlobear_ , Max did care about you. Her curse was that while she could rewind and prevent events from happening, she still remembered every other timeline."

"Here. Have a read of this. I guarantee you're not gonna like what you find." With that, Other-Chloe passed her a battered journal. Chloe begun to read through it, her grief becoming more and more overwhelming with every new page. It was Max's journal, and- like Other-Chloe had told her- it was full of events that hadn't happened , that were yet to happen.

 _We kissed? Wow. And...and...she had feelings for me too? God, why did I have to be such a fucking idiot and try blackmailing the local rich psycho?_

Chloe reached the final page of entries, dated November 2nd, 2013. Just short of five weeks from now. The page was barely readable, due to spatters of something on the page, but it was clear enough to make out.

 _I...I can't cope with this anymore. Chloe meant such to me. Even if we only did get those five days, it meant more to me than most of my life. I can't even talk to anyone about it, they'll think I've lost my mind. All those moments that never happened- No. They happened, just not in this timeline. Oh, why did I do this? Why did Arcadia Fucking Bay_ _take any kind of priority over Chloe? I am a fuck-up. And there's only one way I can think of to fix this._

 _Chloe, if you're up-or down- there, I'm coming._

 _I need my partner in crime back. Nothing else matters to me now. You are my only priority, forever and always._

Chloe let the journal drop as she covered her face and broke down completely. This was too much for her to take in, that Max would do that. And in the vague hope it'd reunite them, too. It hadn't broken Chloe's heart, so much as strapped it to dynamite and blasted it into oblivion. That was what Chloe couldn't cope with. Her very best friend, estranged as she was until now, had cared about her, even loved her.

Other-Chloe sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her.

"W-why the fuck...would...y-you show...me that?" Chloe spluttered out between sobs, as Other-Chloe rested her head against the side of her own.

"You think I'm cruel enough to show you what's gonna happen without giving you some kinda way to make this shit right?"

"W-what...do...y-you...m-mean?"

Other-Chloe sighed. "As that teacher-prick, Jefferson, said to Max about half an hour ago," she explained, putting on a Jefferson impression, " _Y_ _ou have a gift._ _And I'm a psychopathic asshole who loves abusing and photographing young women_ _like a creep._ " Other-Chloe chuckled. "Well, he never said the last part, he just... kinda did it."

By now, Chloe had more or less composed herself enough to make coherent conversation. "Rewind, just a mo': _what_ gift, exactly?"

A grin appeared on Other-Chloe's face. "I'm not going to tell you. In fact, it's more fun to show you."

 **A/N**

 **As I have decided during the writing of chapter 13, I've decided to bin the preface notes, as it no longer really fits as it should. It makes more sense to put the notes at the end of the chapter and I shoulda figured that. Hopefully the ideas so far make sense and there aren't many plot holes.**

 **Also, because Chloe's powers are technically dissimilar to Max's, her actions avoid breaking the rules of the space-time continuum as Max's supposedly did.** **Also, Other-Chloe _is_ an iteration of Chloe. She will become far more significant later in the story (at the time of writing this, around Chapter 13, it's yet to be written) and massive consequences will ensue.**


	2. Long Way Down

_November 2, 2013. Arcadia Bay Lighthouse_

Max took a series of inreasingly deep yet shaky breaths. The sun was barely grazing above the horizon, dawn not having fully broken. Even with Chloe's old jacket, the wind that had picked up was like lying on broken glass, biting into her through the layers of clothing and sending chills throughout her in all directions. It was, after all, November. Naturally, cold would be normal. But not today, not for Max at least. The seasonal weather's effects were paled in comparison to Max's feelings. She hadn't felt warm since she had returned through time, acting on Chloe's suggestion for what would be the best thing for everyone.

 _Except for me. I can't_ _do this any more..._

She'd constantly had to fight back tears over the five or so weeks since that day. The events after the crack of the handgun cutting Chloe's life short were a complete grey blur to Max. She'd guessed that the trauma of that, combined with everything else that had happened in the other timeline, had caused her mind to more or less implode, turn on itself. Every night had been hell. Seeing Chloe as she fell, again and again, and at the same time having that image juxtaposed with the memories that technically never happened: walking along those railroad tracks, hand in hand, having almost shot Frank were it not for David's revolver being empty; the playfighting in Blackwell's pool, before playing hide-and-seek against the guards and burning rubber out of Blackwell (or Blackhell, as Chloe had coined it); the morning after... The taste of Chloe's lips mixed with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes and chlorine, and the look of surprise yet enjoyment on her face as Max kissed her.

And that last time. On this cliff, as the world they had known disintegrated in the face of a tornado the likes of which had never been seen. That final kiss and embrace meant more to her than a thousand relationships and intimacies to anyone else ever could. Her final words still rung in Max's ears, every waking moment and every night.

 _Max... don't you forget about me._

 _Never..._

Max wiped the tears from her eyes and looked down at her diary, the open page dampened in places by yet another breakdown, and finished the entry she had written whilst on the bench.

 _I need my partner in crime back. Nothing else matters to me now. You are my only priority, forever and always._

With that, she closed the diary and placed it in place of where she had been sitting, alongside her bag, before standing up and walking carefully toward the precipice. The sun was now an inch or so above the horizon, she hadn't realised she had been reflecting on all those realities for so long. If it weren't for the position she was in both mentally and physically, this would have made an excellent photograph. A flock of seabirds were flying past, silhouetted by the low sun, as its rays of gold and crimson cast an almost unearthly reddish glow across the area.

She had always felt that this option was somewhat cowardly for her to take, but here and now it felt like the only sensible thing to do. She'd heard the criticisms people made of those who jumped: that they were attention seekers, only wanting people to care. That was why she had chosen this place in particular. At least, it was one of the two reasons.

Firstly, it was isolated here: beside her, and in times past Chloe, frequented this spot; the currents in the area she was aiming to hit would mean that her body would likely never be found, meaning she would never be branded as _'just another attention seeker'_. Add to that her active decision to avoid cameras and you had a perfect way to disappear off of the face of the Earth. A ghost, as Max had always been in the scheme of society.

Secondly, this place meant more than anywhere else. During the week that never happened, this was one of the first places her and Chloe had come to, reconciling the years lost to eternity through the faults of both parties and yet neither. Moreover, in that week, this had been the site of those final precious moments spent with the one person that had returned from obscurity in her life to mean more than anything else, moments that had made Max's life here and now more painful than anything she could ever have imagined or wished on her worst enemies.

She took a small pace closer to oblivion, peering over the edge despite the dizziness it caused. It was about two hundred feet from here to the broken rocks making up the base of the cliff below, partly obscured every so often as the wash of waves crashed against them and the sea foam enveloped them, slightly less if she clipped any of the jagged edges of the cliff on the way down. She'd never listened much in science, but for some strange reason, one of Ms. Grant's lectures on Physics popped into her subconscious, as her mind decided to tell her how long it would take to get from here to there. Four seconds, give or take. Enough for her mind to reconsider this on the way down, perhaps? No, she'd settled this long ago. This was the only way for her now.

She took in one last deep breath, closed her eyes and relaxed. She'd decided it was best not to see her approaching demise. In that moment, Max heard something. Someone calling her name, faintly.

 _Max..._

The voice grew louder. Louder still. Max's jaw dropped open as she registered the owner of said voice. She turned and took a brief step away from the cliff, still not believing that this voice was anything other than a hallucination.

"C-Chloe?"

Her eyes were greeted by Chloe, or at least what appeared to be her. She ran and hugged the form in front of her, before receiving what felt like a small electric shock through her chest and arms. She recoiled slightly, realising Chloe was worse off.

"Chloe? Chlo, speak to me!"

Chloe reeled in agony as a bolt of pain fired through her head. _Damn, nobody warned me not to get touchy-feely..._ On returning to her feet, Max's expression greeted her, a mix of fear and confusion. She raised her arms, to gesture to Max to come to her she realised why. She was beginning to de-materialise. She could hear her alternate form in her ear warning her. _You're gonna hate this, but you won't have an infinite amount of time when you go to a point in time. Or any idea how long you've got. So make every second count._ "Max...please, don't do this!"

Max was already crying again, and despite her half-existent form she could feel the cool against her cheeks of tears rolling down them as well. This was going to be nothing short of hell, if she hadn't just come from there already anyway.

"W-why not? I...I thought y-you'd want me w-with you!"

"Look... Max... I don't know... how long I've got. So... I'll be quick. I think I can fix this." Chloe half-yelped, half-growled at another sharp pain, a side effect of her new-found ability.

"W-w-what?"

"I...it's hard to exp-AGH!" Another burst of pain, this time almost causing Chloe to fully de-materialise.

"Chloe!"

Despite the agony, the barely visible Chloe put on a brave face.

"I'll fix...this. Just...keep fighting..."

"Chloe...I...I..." Shock, and overwhelming emotions had rendered Max speechless, unable to put a coherent sentence together. It didn't matter: Chloe already knew what she was trying to say.

As the last traces of her de-materialised, her last words rung through Max's ears. _I know, and I love you too, now and forever._

Max sunk to her knees, overcome by the emotions of losing Chloe once again after such a short reunion. What did she mean, 'keep fighting'? If she knew so much about what Max was going through, then she'd surely have appreciated Max's idea. As she lifted her head from her hands, she noticed something lying on the floor a few feet from her, where Chloe had last been before disappearing into the aether. Her journal. Max glanced up at the bench, where her journal had been. It was still there, too. It occurred to her that somehow Chloe must've had it, leaving it for her. How it was there was irrelevant: she'd stopped questioning how things could be possible since the first time she'd used her ability to manipulate time itself.

Most of the diary was unchanged, albeit with a far greater number of tear splatters on the pages. She flicked one page past the last entry, which had been today. The handwriting of the next entry was unmistakable.

 _Max,_

 _If you're reading this, then I've probably run out of time for now. My ability is as fucked up as yours where being reliable is concerned. If I hadn't said it before I vanished, I also have some kinda power too, not that I've any fucking clue what trouble it's gonna cause. And I'm not stopping until either it kills me- again- or I put this right. Though, preferably, not option number one._

 _I read through your diary while I was up here. Sorry, but you know I can be as much of a nosy bitch as you._ _If I somehow come back, the you're probably going to have to explain what's happened. Or, show me this and hope it causes some wierd 'Total Recall' memory fix._

 _Also, I woulda wrote this in my diary and left it with you, but... Well, I feel like a piece of shit for what I wrote in my diary about you. I've seen that you never gave up on me. And I figured writing this in your diary was the best place to put it anyway._

 _Don't you worry. You're going to get your partner in crime back. I can't stand being without my partner in time either- or being up here with this odd alternate me._

Chlo x

 _P.S: I'm not even remotely mad at you for the past five years. And if you think that continuing the fight is hard because you relive all those things that never happened, chill, dude: I'm getting given a motherfucking ringside seat to them up here. I think the years of bad karma finally caught me up, dammit._

Max dropped the journal at her feet and flopped onto her back, gazing up at the sky as its colours turned once more. She was crying again, but this time it was as much with relief as it was sadness, as well as being somewhat amused that it was indeed still Chloe, given her response the the afterlife's karma. Maybe, just maybe, Chloe was right this time. Maybe this could be fixed, and they could perhaps be together and happy. Max shuddered, as it dawned on her that she was leaving so much of the present and future down to Chloe, who even by Max's admission had questionable judgement.

So, this was going to go one of two ways: everything was either going to get better and be fixed, Chloe being alive and all; or it was going to break the timelines even more. Great.

 _Well, there's not much I can do right now. Chloe, if you can somehow read minds too now, please don't fuck this up. For me._

 **A/N**

 **Yep. Max may or may not be right about that, but only time will tell. And yes, I _do_ fully intend to write some moderately powerful scenes. Or what I hope will be powerful.**


	3. Decisions in Limbo

Chloe snapped back into conscious feeling- back in the aether of wherethefuckever- with a sensation in her head worse than any she could recall having. The only thing close to this was her first major hangover, the morning after that underground Firewalk set at the Old Mill. To add to her misery, her alter ego, she had by now presumed, was sat next to her.

"You could've fucking warned me not to touch people. That felt like a damn taser."

Other-Chloe, as per her usual standard of sympathy, barely suppressed a giggle at this. "Yeah. It's alright if you're _in_ your own body. Outside, not so much."

Chloe was still somewhat disgruntled. The last thing she needed was to start learning of new side effects when this ability of hers could see her completely fuck reality over.

"Yeah, next time, warn me if there's a side effect like that, asshole."

Another chuckle from Other-Chloe. "Sure thing, once you explain one thing: why the fuck did you go _forward_ in time, when there is no way to un-break anything there?"

Chloe scoffed. No way in hell was this thing _actually_ her. It would have understood full well why otherwise.

"Duh! If Max really does remember what happens in every timeline, then she'll at least know now that I give-or gave- a shit. And hopefully, that'll make life easier when I figure out how to get back."

A smile appeared on Other-Chloe's face. "Ah, some more of the legendary Price logic. How well that's done you in life. Have you actually thought at all about how you're going to put shit right, or are you gonna break everything until it somehow magically fixes itself?"

As Chloe opened her mouth to reply, Other-Chloe covered it.

"Actually, forget I asked that. Jeez, putting an idea like that in your head is a one way trip to blowing the Universe to hell."

"So, I've got to undo something from before I died, and it should fix things?"

"Amazeballs! She finally realises **she** fucked up somewhere!" Other-Chloe exclaimed, opting to bear-hug Chloe at the same time. "Now, what or who do you think you should do- or, undo?"

Chloe tilted her head back, tapping it a few times against the apparent solidity of the barrier behind her. "Dad's accident?"

"Uh-uh. That's a one way ticket to Fuckedville."

Chloe felt herself paling slightly. "Whose life does it fuck up?" The past day- though it could've been millenia, as any sense of time didn't exist in this place- had seen her make a total U-turn. She'd gone from being ignorant, self-centred and detached, to being concerned about- and caring for- everyone except herself. It was this part of her talking now. She only hoped that this alternate reality didn't wreck too many lives.

She peered at the image before her. Instead of a porthole view, Other-Chloe handed her a Polaroid. Even without looking at it, the significance she had begun to attach to Polaroids was enough to make her start breaking up. The sight of one of these little pieces of toughened film reminded her of Max. She blinked and shook her head, as the thought of Max refocused her. It was Max, after all, that Chloe had resolved to do this for. She'd given her an impossible decision to make, and it was only right that somehow, she found a way of making things so that the decision never had to be made.

After a couple of breaths and a moment's hesitation, Chloe flipped over the photograph. It wasn't Max, as Chloe had expected, but herself. Or, as far as Chloe could discern, that was who the face greeting her. Imprisoned in a wheelchair, complete with a ventilator and a worse self-hatred than Chloe remembered.

Once again, Other-Chloe provided the narrative.

"Luckily, the events themselves only fucked you up. Unluckily, Mom and Dad ended up snowed under with debt. Like, heading for the millions of bucks. Max, God bless her soul, figured that preventing the accident by making Dad take the bus would fix the present."

Chloe stopped her for a moment. "How'd Max manage that? Come on, she's not exactly a senator where words are concerned."

"Or bullshit, for that matter. No, she hid his keys. The end result, in short, is that Dad gets you car and some asswipe runs you off the road. And voila. This one fucked with Max more than any timeline. except the one where, y'know..."

Chloe stared at her, body language screaming _tell me, before I beat it out of you._ "Why? Don't tell me I fucking messed her up again."

"Oh, yes. You asked her to kill you, OD you on your morphine supply."

Chloe banged her head on the barrier behind her a couple of times, each harder than the last. After four or five times, Other-Chloe put her hand in the way. "Easy there, we don't want'cha losing any more brain cells than you already lack, do we now?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, dickhead. What else is there I could undo that _might_ put things right?"

"I dunno, what should you do? It's not my future to change right now."

"Really? That's less than unhelpful."

"That's you down to a point. Now, what else can you think of that was a stupid move to make?"

"Want a list?" As well as becoming far more aware of those formerly around her, Chloe had also become more recognising of her multitude of screw-ups. And that was a hella big list. Worse still, there wasn't any alcohol up here to help her decide.

"Let's see... kicking Nathan's ass when he draws the gun on me?"

"Nope. The moment you enter that bathroom, the Universe fully intended for you to end up in a box. But still, you're getting warmer."

"Hm. Should I pay Frank a visit? He acts kinda strange any time Rachel is mentioned."

Other-Chloe's expression darkened again. "Not a bad plan."

Chloe wasn't blind. Something was up, and once again curiosity was getting the better of her.

"Lemme guess: Me being involved with Frank somehow breaks the timeline again?"

Other-Chloe shook her head slowly. "No. Not exactly. Look, you go have a back-and-forth with Frank. But what you might find... well, don't say I didn't give ya fair warn'."

Chloe gulped involuntarily. 'Fair warning' was usually a byword for 'what you are about to find will royally fuck with you.' And as much as Chloe dreaded finding out exactly what that would be, it had to be done. The universe was going to need to have some hella explanation for why she, of all people, was being put through this revolving door of trying to fix things and probably ending up fucking them up further.

"Dammit," Chloe muttered under her breath as she prepared once more to pinball through time, "I'm gonna need something stronger than beer when I'm done."


	4. Angels and Hell

_American Rust._

 _January 2013._

Chloe jolted, finding herself lying on the ground in the familiar surroundings of her Home away from Hell. It was still relatively cold, and snow was falling once again, its light form further weighting down the boughs of the pine trees surrounding the junkyard. The sun, too, was making an odd appearance for this time of year, as it shone through the gaps in this makeshift hut, where windows and a more substantial roof would ideally be, in brilliant yellow rays. She felt her breathing and heartbeat settle down, from beating out of its cage back to her normal rate, as she sighed. _Had the last few things that had run rampant in her head just been some fucked up nightmare, from a bad batch of Frank's stash?_ Her answer came promptly, as she retched, coughing up blood. _No fucking way that's normal..._ _That must've happened. Shit._

Other-Chloe's words were still ringing in her head. But _how_ could she avoid trying to blackmail or con Nathan and avoid being hunted down by Frank over the three grand she owed? Get a job?

Chloe shook her head and sat up.

"Frank give you a bad batch again? You've been asleep for, like, ages. Even for you."

Chloe's blood once again ran cold. "R-rachel?"

The expression on her face was really something- a classic raised eyebrow or sarcasm and curiosity- Chloe had to admit. But, damn, it was surreal to see those features again. Those piercing hazel eyes, matched by long, straight locks of almoat eerily perfect-looking blonde. And that earring, the one with the feather, its colour near matching Chloe's hair colour. A checked flannel shirt, not quite concealing the star on her wrist... Chloe was somewhat mesmerised. Sure, the Chloe that _was_ medicating and in her own way meditating here had, as yet, had Rach here by her side the whole time, but the Chloe currently occupying her body had spent six long months separated from the only person in the world she'd allowed to get close to her.

"You sure you're ok, C.? You're pale as fuck." Rachel queried, raised eyebrow replaced by an altogether more concerned expression.

Chloe coughed again, slouching against the cable reel that doubled as a table. "Yeah... It's just, there's... so much going on in my head right now." Another jolt passed through her. _Oh yes, this side effect too. Fucking-A. Dear other self, please fuck off for a few minutes and let me do what I gotta do._

Rachel sat down next to her, her shoulder against Chloe's. The way she did whenever she figured something was up with Chloe. "Really? You're shaking and-"

Chloe cut her off, with a finger across her lips. She restored the usual smirk. Trying to imitate her former self was a pain in the ass, even if it had only been the 'former self' from six months ago. "Trust me. It's just, well, the usual nightmares. I guess."

Rachel's concerned look was once again surpassed by a raised eyebrow. "Yeah? I'd say," she carried on, running a hand along the side of Chloe's cheek and stopping at her chin, "that's hella bullshit."

 _Fuck. Erm, now what? How the fuck do I get out of this one?_

She grabbed Rachel's wrist, before attempting to put her on her back, playfight style while she was off-guard. "And I'd say, it's hella not!"

After an intense staring match, as two sets of eyes locked, the tension of this sudden escalation evaporated, the pair breaking down into an almost awkward laughter, before Chloe released the still-startled Rachel, rolling off her and lying next to her, heads touching, staring up through the holes in the rusting corrugated sheet that made the half-assed roof of this shack of sorts.

Rachel sighed, before breaking the silence of the laughter. "Okay, okay... I'm a little more convinced now. Wow, it feels like forever since we last did anything crazy. Like that."

Once again, a familiar cold feeling flushed through Chloe, despite her better concealing it this time around. For her, it _had_ been forever. This hop onto her own body, in another part of time itself, had been the first time she'd been able to speak to Rachel since she vanished from her world, all those months ago. The embrace they had just shared, playfighting or not, had struck more than a few nerves. This was going to take getting used to, like it or not.

All Chloe had to do was fix all of the shit that she could think of, and this should all be put right. That was her end goal. But here and now, she finally realised how hars a task it was going to be. Fixing events in the past, to alter the future, try and avert a certain death, and yet somehow not mess things up in the present for herself. Or, her past-self.

 _God, this time-pinball thing really hurts my head. Or maybe it's the concrete. Heh, at least I'm gonna be on par with Max when I speak to her..._

In that moment, it hit Chloe. It hit her with more force than a semi-truck, or even a damn train.

 _Max. Maybe she holds the key to this, somehow!_

"Well, what say you to a little visit to our old favourite spot, Little Miss Rebel?" Rachel's voice cut through her self-reflection, bringing her back into the moment.

"Well, sure. Lead the way, Little Miss Double-Life!"

Rachel laughed at this retort. "Same old Chloe, just the way I like her!"

Chloe laughed in response, albeit somewhat reservedly. So much to fix, so many things to put right, and yet she was kicking this cycle off by slinking off to the overlook, newly restored after the results of a certain someone's anger all that time ago, to wax some more about life, and try to score it lucky again in getting some drink from any unsuspecting picnickers.

As Chloe scrambled aboard the boxcar, and sat herself level, an almost electric force passed through her. She closed her eyes, and screamed.


	5. Back to the Aether

"Really? Are you going to get on and try to fix shit, or are you just gonna fuck around in different places and times for eternity?"

Chloe groaned at the sound of her own voice- albeit in a different embodiment- grilling her once again. Sure, going back to _that_ point in time wasn't going to be able to do any real good, but again, Chloe was flexing her muscles, so to speak. What good was being _told_ anything these days? She at least wanted to be totally sure that they _worked._ No matter when or where. Plus, pissing Other-her off was oh so much fun.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get around to it. Now I know it actually works. Oh, and is there any way to get rid of that other side effect? Y'know, the 'soul trying to displace mine' side effect?"

Other-Chloe scoffed. "You'll get around to it like you got around to watering the plants. Not Dad's fault either, you shoulda remembered anyway. Idiot. Oh, and _that_ side effect is something you'll have to get used to."

Chloe pouted, somewhat annoyed at this. How the hell could she focus on fixing things while the soul that _rightfully_ belonged to that body was trying to evict her?

"Yeah. Life's a bitch, Chlo. More than you are, surprisingly. The ability to go fuck with time doesn't come drawback-free, and if you think yours are bad then feel free to quiz Max on what she puts up with."

A penny dropped in Chloe's head: Max. She remembered the thought she'd had whilst in the past, that somehow Max may still hold the key to putting things right. Even if she wasn't able to directly interject. An idea hit Chloe.

"I'm gonna go back to the day Dad died."

Other-Chloe flicked her head upward, pacing up and down a little and growling with frustration.

"Hellooo? Didn't you listen the first time? Saving Dad isn't gonna fix any problems whatsoever!"

Chloe couldn't help but burst out laughing in the face of the Other her. "Hahaha... so, the _Almighty Oracle_ hasn't figured this move out, huh? I'm not going back there to try and save him. Life in the state I saw myself and my family in is basically no life at all."

Other-Chloe was stumped. "So... why the fuck go back there?"

Chloe put her hands on Other-Chloe's shoulders, touching noses with her increasingly confused and concerned alternate form. "Think, jackass: who _else_ was in the room when Joyce called?"

A furrowed brow was shortly followed by a look of understanding. "Huh. There's a brain under that hair dye after all."

"Uh-huh, I'm a smartass through and through. And a smartass with some kinda plan."

"Right... the Price brain cells strike again. What, oh intelligent fuck-up, are you planning?"

Chloe moved away from Other-Chloe, and toward the porthole containing that fateful day, before turning back and winking. "I got this covered. Now you, you go...blaze, or whatthefuckever alternate selves do." She turned, and braced herself to make the leap back into another, past form of herself.

"Real slick, Price. Now, go do your thing. Oh, and try to remember one thing."

Chloe turned, wondering what else her alternate form had in store. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Whatever you do... will mess with me too. What happens to you can happen to me too. So, don't fuck too much up."

"Whyever not?"

Other-Chloe shot her an almost evil stare. "Because you'll have me to answer to. And trust me, given the choice, I'd pick the Devil over me."


	6. Paths Crossed in Timelines Old

_The Price Household._

 _September 28, 2008._

Max recoiled, as she entered her body once again via the selfie of her and Chloe. This time, she was back to undo her actions. Her first jump had been to prevent William from driving to go pick up Joyce, and she thought that it had worked. Right up until she returned to her timeline in 2013, to find herself part of the Vortex Club, and a whole host of other things fucked up in that part of the timeline. Not to mention... Chloe.

Her actions had effectively destroyed her best friend, despite being in the best intentions to do the exact opposite. Hence why she was back, again. She didn't want to do it, but allowing William to die would be the sole way to fix the present; or at least, it _would_ fix what she'd just fucked up. Max jumped as the phone rang, its tone akin to a knell.

"Hello? Hey, honey."

 _Here we go again. Oh God, I'm so sorry William._

"..Of course I'll come pick you up!"

As William collected his keys and stepped out of the door, and the bounds of the photo, Max walked across to the fireplace, drawing out the Polaroid of this day. Before she had a chance to incinerate it, Chloe surprised her.

"I know you aren't the Max from this timeline, okay? I've... I've... Got something I need to explain."

Max froze, almost unbelieving what she had just heard. The photo fell out of her hands, missing the fire and landing in front of the fire guard. She turned to face Chloe.

"W-what? H-h-how??"

Chloe hugged her, ignoring the pain of the electrical shock that preceded her side effect.

"Agh!"

"Chloe!" Max whined, her concern and confusion spiking through the roof.

"Look, I know what's gonna happen today, and that neither of us will remember this. But trust me, it's me. From your timeline."

Tears were building in both their eyes.

"Chloe...how?"

Chloe smiled. "Some day, Max. Some day I might be able to explain this. But for now, just know that I got this covered."

Max smiled, before her expression turned as she clutched her head, pitching forward.

"C-chloe..." Old Timeline Max was back.

"Shhh... just rest, Max. Oh, and I know that you're moving soon."

Max paled, horrified. _How does she know?? Oh fuck, fuck, she's gonna-_

"I'm not mad. Well, I will be, sometime, but _I_ am far from mad. You'll understand, sometime."

"S-so y-you don't m-mind?" Max was shuddering somewhat. Mainly as her body was telling her a thousand different emotions to be used right here and now. "Just promise me one thing, Max."

"Y-yes?"

Chloe took a step up to Max, taking her by the shoulders. "Don't you forget about me. And wh-if you come back to this place, let me know. Like, the split-second you come back, okay?"

Max nodded, still shuddering.

 _Aw,_ Chloe mused, concealing the glow that was building up inside her, _younger Max is just as cute when she's dumbstruck. Wait, what?_ _Where'd that come from, Chloe?_

"A-and C-chloe?"

"Yeah?"

Chloe's cheeks lit up red, as Young Max decide to kiss her. "T-there... That's my p-promise. Happy?"

Chloe shrugged off the knowledge of the impending shock, choosing to embrace her younger best friend in the biggest bear hug she could manage. Max yelped slightly in surprise.

"Of course I am. Now, last one across the line has to do the dishes?"

"You betcha!"

As Chloe and Max bolted for the controllers sat on the floor, in front of the Prices' (ancient) TV, Chloe felt that already familiar buildup of energy throughout her, like a hundred bolts of lightning coursing throughout her.

 _Limbo._

Everything went white, once again. The white receded, but with no trace of Other-Chloe anywhere. Chloe glanced around the space, ever more frantically. She didn't want to admit it, but she was royally fucked without some direction from her; even if it meant a hundred arguments had to happen, it was worthwhile if it meant that she could fix the future- present- and make everything right.

"BOOYAH!" the holler came through her ear, as a pair of hands jabbed into her ribs from behind. Chloe shrieked, jumping in the opposite direction. As her panting breath and fluttering heart calmed, Chloe heard that oh-so-familiar and frustrating laughter. _Her_ laughter.

"Bitch."

The laughter receded, with another sigh. "I had to have some kinda fun with ya."

"Yeah, of course you did. Now, tell me: did that do anything, or have I fucked things more?"

Other-Chloe gave a half-hearted laugh. "You should learn to trust your instincts more."

"Oh yeah? Like what, fucking smash Nathan Prescott's head into a thousand bits?"

Other-Chloe stood for a few moments, at a loss for words. "Yeeah... Maybe not. And you've had _some_ effect on how shit goes down."

Chloe stood back up, taking a pace toward Other-Chloe again. " _Some?_ "

"Yeah. As it stands now, you still die, same place, same time. However..." She paused. _Of course she would, I would most definitely leave me hanging where shit like this is concerned._Other-Chloe relented, seeing the expression on her recently-joined companion- or would ragdoll be more appropriate?- turning from one of suspense, to annoyance, to a look that Other-Chloe had seen innumerable number of times, just within the past day. That look of _"Tell me, before I start teaching you what pain is."_

"Okay, fine. You and Max end up meeting a little earlier in that timeline."

Chloe huffed, more with relief than frustration. "And how does that pan out?"

Other-Chloe gave a half-smile. "You get- somewhere- closer to knowing what happened to Rachel. But that, in a way, makes your death more inevitable."

Chloe sighed, staring up at the top of this white, featureless box. "So, no closer to getting outta here, huh?"

Other-Chloe shook her head. "Nope. Still, your last idea might just work."

Chloe shot her a puzzled look, met with laughter.

"That short a memory span, huh?" Other-Chloe afforded herself another chuckle. "It's time to go see your friendly neighbourhood dealer. And by 'see', I mean 'snoop his shit while he ain't looking.'"


	7. The Demon of BlackHell

_September 2012._

 _Blackwell Campus._

Sure, Other-Chloe had said to jump back and visit _Frank_ to get some answers. Chloe, in her usual manner, had decided otherwise. Going after Nathan seemed to be a far more useful strategy, as it was _his_ actions that had seen Chloe end up in this seemingly endless cycle of jumping about timelines and then being torn into by some fucked-up version of herself. It was this which had inspired Chloe to pay him a visit. She glanced out from the truck, seeing the last streaks of sunlight disappearing behind the horizon over the bay. Chloe never used to like creeping about the dark, especially around this place, but now she was far more at peace when doing it. She could almost say she enjoyed sneaking about. _Especially_ when it meant paying the local asshole rich-kid an unexpected visit at one in the morning.

The main school building looked just as unwelcoming as it had when Chloe got herself expelled, still all the same outdated and old looks to it, the central tower still as imposing as ever. It was like an overlord, a slave-driver, standing over the Bay. The wings of the Academy extended, cowering away from it as though they were its shoulders. The ragged old banner still hung, barely attached at both ends, across the main doorway. _Go Bigfoots!_ Chloe shuddered, recalling one conversation in particular that she'd had with Frank before setting foot on Blackhell, despite having been expelled the same day. She couldn't shake how many different things seemed to link into one another: the banner, its slogan being Frank's reply when Chloe had asked about Drew's debt before she'd gone to collect said debt; encountering Damon for the first time. And Damon. His actions, what he did to Rachel a day or two later-

 _Rachel. Yet again, another sequence of events that links directly to Rachel._ Chloe shook her head again, trying to focus on her aims again: Get into the dorms, find Nathan's room- or Nathan, or if she was (un)lucky, both at once- oh. And avoid step-SWAT at the same time. Chloe paused as she reached the wall by the never-used bike shelter, peeking round the corner. One thing that _was_ useful in having David as her step-douche, and that he just _happened_ to keep detailed records of which guards would patrol where, was that she knew roughly when to be on her toes.

 _Nope. Mr. Guard has gone elsewhere, good._ Once she was happy that nobody was going to catch her out, she quietly jogged across the ten yards or so, coming to the open iron gate that led into the courtyard for the dorms. She came to an abrupt halt, cursing. The drunken ramblings of one Principal Wells rang out from inside the courtyard. _Fuck. Of all the people who I could have to deal with, it **has** to be him. Dammit._

A clattering of a body against the wooden boards, followed by groans and cursing. Chloe risked a glimpse around the corner, knowing that despite being drunk enough to not know how to balance, Wells still had eyes that would put your average telescope to shame. She should know, having been busted on one occasion for having something-or-other in her pockets. She couldn't remember what exactly it was, but it can't have been poking above the lip of the pocket by more than a finger's space. Yet he had somehow spotted it. From across the other side of the front yard of the damn Academy. Wells was lying on his back, cursing profusely and muttering under his breath. something about the Prescotts and that new teacher Jefferson. Chloe took another high risk. Keeping as low as she could, she bolted for the bush on the crest opposite the porch of Wells' residence on-campus. She dived onto her stomach as the foliage got between her and Wells who, a moment later, jolted up as he tried to discern, loudly: "who the hell's out there? Show yourself, or I'm getting the cops down here!"

Chloe grimaced, as she felt a tingling of electricity jolt through her. Throwing herself to the ground maybe wasn't her best plan. Still, with any amount of luck, she'd have just enough time to do what she needed to and get away from campus. If not... well, the Chloe that would take this body back would have a shit-ton of explaining to do to whoever caught her. As Wells staggered toward the gate, still attempting in vain to track the mystery visitor, she hopped up as quietly as she could from her hiding place, before following the line of the mound towards the totem in the back corner, standing vigil over the grounds. The lamp post illuminated the small park-like grounds in an eerie dull yellow, casting shadows on every object. Wells had settled down once again, with yet more language to get thrown out of Sunday Service with.

Chloe made it into the shadow of the arch above the front door to the dorms, and tried the handle. Unlike her previous visit, all that time ago, the handle gave in with a slight metallic grinding and a click, as the door swung inward on its hinges. Chloe flicked herself through the door, sealing it behind her as one still-inebriated Wells rounded the corner. The general state of the dorms hadn't changed whatsoever: paper still littered the floor, even in the stairwell; graffiti still covered every inch of any poster or official notice signs.

 _As it turns out, I'm not the only one who likes tagging things. Or sticking two fingers up to the establishment._ Chloe smirked as this note-to-self crossed her mind. The hallway lights, as always, had been switched off at this hour in a vain attempt to encourage adherence to the curfew. The amount of noise in some areas proved the exact opposite to be going on. Chloe glanced at the dorm sign, annotated again by a mass of ink, squinting through the near-darkness that was the male dorm floors. After a good few moments, her eyes caught the quarry in question.

 _111- Nathan Prescott._ _Gotcha now, asshole._ With that, Chloe slipped across the hallway to room 111. As a note of caution, she kept one ear out. Given the amount of cans of beer and glass bottles strewn everywhere, it probably wouldn't be best to bump into any of the guys up here right now. 111 was open, its door ajar. Chloe gripped the edge of the door, edging it open fraction by fraction. A feeling of dread and apprehension was forming inside her, like some form of storm, or a hurricane.

 _What if he's in here? What if he's sat, waiting for me? What if..._ Chloe tapped her head abruptly against the doorframe. _Knock it off. You're in this deep already. Might as well finish what you started, dumbass._ With that, she gave the door a firm shove. It swung open, to reveal a darkened room. One with no Prescott in sight.

"Heh. Thought so." Chloe muttered under her breath, relieved. Now, the fun began. First to be rifled through was a pile of papers on his desk. Chloe grimaced at some of what she came across. Sketches of all kinds of wierd shit, something that looked like a public hanging, a torture room, a dismembered body...

"Damn, Nathan, you need help." Next, a medical letter. Shrink's department. A letter from Nathan's shrink to Nathan, regarding his mental state. Chloe was taken aback at this trinket of extra information. _Ho-ly-shit. He really_ _needs help._ The letter was the last paper in the stack, so Chloe replaced then as best she could, moving onto his PC. It, thankfully, was unlocked. Easy pickings. Chloe stopped as she went to type, feeling another pulse of electricity through her. Her fingers and hands twitched somewhat, but she fought back against it. _Fuck. Off. I'm not done just yet. Is another ten minutes too much to ask?_

She slammed her hands on the edge of the desk, the electrical buzzing receding suddenly. Chloe started searching Nathan's files, a little faster than she'd been working before. Getting her other self caught in his room, red-handed, probably wouldn't help her stay alive. As the files loaded up, she froze, her face paling. The papers she'd just gone through had nothing on his computer files. She promptly closed the tabs. _O...kay then. Let's try something else._ _How about..._ Nathan's emails were almost equally disturbing and concerning to read. Chloe had been dumbstruck by how the _system_ seemed to be failing him. Five emails in, and the true source of Nathan's being so fucked up became apparent. It was an email from his father, Sean. The email, on the surface, seemed to be of encouragement. Chloe knew better than to trust a Prescott's word at face value, as she continued to read half a fucking essay that was this one email. The more she read, the more she somehow felt for Nathan. Sure, he was a complete asswipe for the most part. But having a father who **_knew_** his son was seriously screwballed in the head, and threatening to "make sure he never saw light of day again" if he opened up to anyone about it... That was fucked up on a whole new level.

Chloe's ears pricked up, as she heard movement out in the corridor. Shuffling, almost, of a set of feet. Headed right for Room 111. Shit. She had maybe ten seconds to figure out how the fuck to solve this one. Jump out the window? No way, not with Buzzard Bastard Wells still lingering around. Hide in the closet? Nope, Chloe didn't even wanna think about what was in there, given what was on his computer. Chloe huffed under her breath. _Behind the door it is, let's hope it works._ Chloe slipped into the gap between the door and the wall and held her breath. She could smell the alcohol and hair gel and whatever drugs Nathan had been on, like an aurora, a hella reek to try not to notice when she was trying her best to breathe quietly. It was like a damn drug store- or, likelier, the contents of Frank's mobile drugstore- had exploded in his pocket. And all over him. He was mumbling something too, it wasn't exactly clear what either. Something about Jefferson, some kind of 'damn photography project'. Then, something came out of his mouth that coincided with at least one of the emails or files she'd found. The Dark Room. Now, what in fucking hell was that? Chloe was prepared to bet it was something to do with photography, she'd heard it referenced. But who could she ask that would likely... Of course. Had Chloe not been in this situation right here and now, she'd be laughing her ass off that once again, the girl she'd despised for _abandoning_ her, the same girl she was doing this for, would have some kinda idea as to what the hell this meant. That internal laughing stopped quickly when she heard the soft, predator-like footsteps of someone approaching the other side of the door.

Nathan slumped onto his couch, exhausted after all the fucking effort of manhandling someone who was totally out of it. A side effect of GHB that was both useful and a pain in the ass for him. Just as he considered getting up and checking his inbox for the email he knew his new-found mentor- friend, even- was due to send, he stopped. Something caught Nathan's eye: one of the photos he'd taken earlier today. It had been on the desk, with all his various letters, demands, complaints from Arcadia Bay fucking Medical Services, where he'd put it before going out to do the night's work. Now, it was on the floor. By the door. Someone had been in. As quietly as he could, he stood up, and grabbed the nearest object he could, a half-empty bottle of some booze or other. Carefully, he moved towards the door, and extended a hand towards the handle facing him. In one slick(ish) move, he grabbed the handle and yanked the door toward him. The next second-and-a-half passed in a blur. A bright blue blur, at that. Chloe Price. What-the-fuck was she doing in here? He swung the bottle as hard as he could toward her, hitting her in the side of the ribs. She cried out, before returning with a left hook driving straight into the side of his face. The force of the punch was something else, there were jocks that couldn't hit that hard. Yet it seemed to hurt her equally. He saw her cry out silently, clutching her fist, before bolting out of the still-open door and disappearing.

Chloe staggered down the hall, barely able to fight off the almost constant surges through her spirit belonging this body wanted it back, like, now. But she had to get back outside, or at least as far the fuck away from Nathan as possible. Punching him wasn't a good idea. At. All. She had _some_ new information though, and it had damn well been worth the risk -and this agony- to get it. As she burst through the fire exit at the far end of the dorm block, away from Wells the Hawk and the majority of Blackhell's guards, everything snapped to a brilliant white.


	8. Ashes

"I though you said you were going after _FRANK_ , not Prescott." Chloe groaned. Weren't alternate selves supposed to be smarter, or know the future or some shit like that? Still, her trip to Blackhell had been useful, in her eyes at least. "Helloo? Did you not hear a word of what I just said?" Chloe sighed. A microsecond longer here would be too damn long. She was beginning to understand why she'd ended up being a loner of sorts. Her own self, albeit an alter ego or whatever she was, was annoying the crap out of her. And if Chloe _herself_ couldn't handle Chloe Price, then how the hell could any other person on the planet handle her shit?

"Duh. Who could miss a voice as damn annoying as yours? Now I understand why I've gotten into so many fights, _I_ can't even stand listening to you and I'm YOU!" This had almost entirely the effect that Chloe figured it would. Almost. Other-Chloe almost instantly shut up, but her complexion found itself gaining an ever-reddening tone. All at once, she stormed across to Chloe, who happened to be sitting down at the time, back facing her, and kicking her in the back as hard as she could, carrying Chloe a couple of inches off the ground as she did so. Chloe howled in pain as the landed on her back with an unceremonious thud. "Fuck, dude! Was that really fucking necessary?!" she growled back at Other-Chloe, who was now relieved of her rage and enjoying herself to no end, through gritted teeth. A familiar mischievous grin appeared on her face. "Yep. You totally deserved that one. So, why the hell go terrorise the asshat supreme?" Chloe sat up, still nursing the red mark where one battered boot had connected with the back of her kidney. "It made sense."

"Oh, really? Like blackmailing him? That sure made great sense as a plan now, didn't it?" Chloe couldn't really argue with that. Damn having this alternate her. Then again... "Well, at least _dropping in on him_ was more sensible. Nice to know that I got shot by accident." Other-Chloe looked confused. "Accident? How the fuck can pulling the trigger on someone be a fu-"

"I snooped _his_ shit,"Chloe interrupted ,"And as it turns out, the poor fucker is way messed up in the head. And he has daddy issues, like, _major_ daddy issues."Other-Chloe raised an eyebrow. Always a sign that the infamous Ms. Price was about to come out with some snarky remark. "Worse than yours?" Chloe punched her in the abdomen. "Asshat." After a few moments of staggering about, clutching her guts, Other-Chloe recomposed herself. "Okay, okay, I get it. Anyway, what's your fucking plan now, anyway?"

Chloe smiled. "What I said I was gonna do to start. I think Frank's due a visit from me."

 _Frank's RV, Site of the Old Mill_.

 _May 2013._

Chloe knelt behind a clump of pine trees, peeking over to check the surroundings of Frank's rustbucket of an RV. The trees all around here were still only in their youth as they regrew. Chloe was still reeling somewhat from having witnessed the awe-inspiring, and equally disturbing, nature of what one girl's fury had meant for the Bay. Not to mention everything that had followed. Despite the cataclysm that had befell everything to the forests, nature was finding its way once again, rising from the ruins and the ashes of the hills. That had been nearly three years ago. It felt like last week.

Chloe frowned as she recalled how that whole series of events had come about. The spark that had created an inferno of ungodly proportions- and most definitely burned down the fucking prairie. It had taken days for the fire to be extinguished, which had raged against even the most tenacious efforts of the Bay's Fire Department and even a couple of firefighting aircraft from Canada. All that effort, and yet the fire mysteriously, one day, just... vanished. It was hella weird, no doubting it.

Again, this led her to think about Rachel. She couldn't put her finger on it right now, but something about everything going on- both in this moment and in her timeline of the future- seemed to interconnect. Like vines, spreading throughout the cracked blockwork that was now time itself. Chloe allowed herself something of a smirk at this notion: had anyone even _suggested_ the idea of fucking about with the order of time itself or time travel, she'd have done a Ms Einstein on their sorry ass. And yet, here she was, in her own body, about a year before the Universe had conspired and all the different little things in fate had collided. Landing her in front of one Nathan asshole Prescott, in the bathroom at Blackhell, With him pressing a gun against the side of her torso.

Chloe shook her head once again. She didn't need this sort of shit clouding her mind when she was perhaps _this_ close to finding a way of not getting killed. More to the point, she just fucking hoped it didn't carry on after she'd found a way back.

 _Okay... sneak inside, and find out what the fuck Frank knows about Rachel._ _Or anyone._

Chloe knew that Frank wasn't in the RV. She'd been watching it for about half an hour, having found that for once her ability to control her former self was far more stable than it had been before. And, judging by the lack of barking, Pompidouche had accompanied him. It made no sense for Frank to be up here, seeing as how the Mill had been reduced to a giant charcoal briquette eighteen months ago. Chloe swore she could still see smoke, or steam, or something rising up off of the land. After a few more minutes of procrastination, Chloe steeled herself for the task in hand.

 _Well, here goes nothing. Let's hope this turns something up._

Chloe stood up, and jogged to the corner of the RV, still sticking to caution, should a third party happen to be lurking. Quite likely, she'd conceded, where someone with as shady a line of work as Frank was concerned. A quick peek around the edge of the RV. Nobody. As she drew away from the hulk of a vehicle, she noticed the shoulder she'd leaned against his shitmobile with was covered in dust, or some other gunk. "Fuck's sake, Frank, can't you at least wash your scrapheap on wheels once a damn decade?" Chloe muttered under her breath, brushing it off as best she could. A couple more cautious paces brought her to the door. A glance over the shoulder, to be totally sure that Frank wasn't about to jump her. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob. "I hope you've left it unlocked. Otherwise... kiss goodbye to one shitty window." For once, Chloe was in luck. With a slight squeak, the doorknob complied, turning easily enough in her hand. The usual scent of this RV hit Chloe in the same way it usually did, like a baseball bat to the nose. Ignoring it as best she could, she stepped into the RV. Still looking like a small war had been fought in here, and still littered with whatever that mutt had been snacking on. The dog, too. First stop had to be his computer, as Chloe imagined at least some of the sketchy shit Frank was probably involved in would be on there. Nada.

"Still having cloud dreams, Frank? Really? Go find a new grower." Beyond the usual mundane shit like Frank's cloud dreams and a few requests on the dog owners' sites as to the best way to get the smell of dog shit out of something. So _THAT_ was the smell that had hit Chloe. Ergh. Chloe slumped back in the chair. Where else would Frank keep his own mini X-Files, like her Step-fuhrer? A quick search of the front of the RV turned up absolutely squat, except for more papers with the various amounts people owed him scrawled on them. Chloe came across one, with her name on it. Was it worth trying to bullshit Frank that badly? Would he probably make her disappear if she did? _On second thought,_ Chloe figures, _best leave this be._ The last thing she came across before moving on was a photo she'd seen in Frank's RV last around the same time of the wildfire, and all that other crazy shit that happened when she first truly met Rachel. One of Frank and Damon. Now, it was covered in some splotches, that almost looked like ink. Except ink usually wasn't crimson red. Chloe's jaw dropped somewhat. She'd never had Frank down as someone who could go out and kill someone, cold-blooded or not. Sure, she remembered perfectly what had happened that day, and that Frank had jumped in right about the time that Damon had gone to cut her life short(er). But still, in her eyes, Frank never fit the profile of a killer. _As it turns out, I'm wrong yet again._ Chloe allowed herself a subtle huff of laughter at that notion. Damn, _this is becoming a new habit of mine._

Chloe was running out of ideas, and probably out of time. It had been at least twenty minutes since she'd first set foot in Frank's Mobile Dumpster. By now, she'd found her way through to what passed as a bedroom and whatnot for Frank. Finding a place to sit that scored minimal marks on her gross-o-meter (and at that, her seat was scoring a straight 9.0), Chloe gazed lazily around the space.

 _C'mon, Chloe, think. Where the fuck would Frank hide something incriminating? Or, where is he least likely to hide porn in here?_ An object behind one of the two vent grates caught her eye. It looked like some kind of notebook, battered to all hell and stuffed full of loose papers. Kneeling down, Chloe attempted to pry the grate off with her hands, to find it still firmly attached to its frame. She frowned: this might just be what she was looking for; so close, yet still the answers were just out of her grasp. In the usual, subtle, cat-burglar-esque Price style, she gave the frame a firm kick. That did the trick. The flimsy cover dropped onto the crap-coated carpet of the RV with a plastic clink, and the little brown book was hers. She took a deep breath, her fingers grasping the edge of the front cover. What was held within the confines of this tatty thing may just unlock her the key to getting the fuck out of the after-ish-life. She pulled open the first pages, mostly regarding deals dating back to, like, before Dad died. She sighed. This, too, seemed to be a dead-end; she carried on reading through regardless. Then, about halfway in, Chloe's heart started skipping beats. A picture of Rachel, apparently jumping up and down on the bed now next to Chloe, and looking like she was having a good time. More. And... a fucking _love letter?!_ Each word of it hurt more than being shot again a hundred times ever would.

 _Hope you read this first thing in the morning. Sorry about last night. I was being a monstrous bitch and took it out on you. And poor Pompidou. There's a lot of weird shit going on in my life and sometimes I feel like I'm never going to get out of Arcadia Bay. Thank god for you. You're one of the best things I have here and I smile when I think of us together._

 _Let's just drive out of here forever- A fucking loveheart?_

Chloe stopped. A thousand things were dancing the tornado in her head. _She fucking loved Frank. She LIED. TO ME. And she was gonna blow this place off, leave me behind, with no second thought?_

"What the... fuck are you doing in here, Price?" The drunken drawl of Frank Fucking Bowers. Chloe recognised it instantly, as he recognised the book in her hand.

"Hey, give that fucking back!" He lunged at her. However, luck- or maybe fate- wasn't on his side today: he was still drunk; Chloe was sober. And she was fucking incensed. She parried his lunge with a knee to Frank's chest, and she swore she felt, or heard, that oh-so-discerning wet snap as a rib or three split in his chest. He collapsed to the floor, virtually screaming in agony. She now went on the offensive, grabbing him by the back of the neck and rebounding his head off of the floor.

"WHEN THE FUCK WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?!" Chloe's anguished and enraged scream echoed through Frank's head. "WHEN?!"

Chloe picked up the notebook that had just blown apart every last shred of trust she had left, not just in Rachel but any other breathing human, and stormed out of the RV, heading back for her truck about half a mile away. As she pulled the door open, almost breaking its already busted hinges, and flung herself up into the cab, dust flying up off of the battered and torn cushion of the bench seat, everything once again went a lighter shade of white.

 _Limbo. Again._

Chloe's head spun as she tried to get her head around everything, every revelation, every fucking back-stab and betrayal, that she had uncovered in the space of the last ten minutes. She was slumped, once again, against one of the forcefieldy-barrier-things that held her in what felt like a six-by-four. Almost like a cell in some fucking prison, though it might as well have been a cell in Leavenworth for all it'd matter. She'd always thought Rachel was there for her, always. She'd always kinda assumed that Rachel having to bail last-minute was because some shit had flared up in Rachel's life. Most likely, she'd always presumed, because of that monumental dickhead of a father James. She should have fucking figured something was off when Rachel was almost never doing anything with her any more. She looked up, tears still flooding her eyes. That other bitch, version of herself, was stood a few feet in front of her. And a wry fucking grin to boot. Once again, that feeling of rage, fury like Chloe had never known before, burned hotter than she'd ever known before.

She stood up taking paces toward Other-Chloe. She hadn't figured out what was going to happen next, just yet. "Now you know how it feels."

"How it feels, huh? Fucking feel this!" With that, Chloe unloaded a jackhammer of a punch into Other-Chloe's face, knocking her to the floor with a pained and surprised yelp. Before she had a chance to recover, Chloe was atop her, knee into her chest and a hand around her throat. She leaned in closer, virtually snarling at Other-Chloe. "You fucking knew, this whole fucking time. DIDN'T YOU?" Her grip tightened, and Other-Chloe's complexion begun turning more pale. An almost death-rattle-like noise permeated from her mouth. Chloe finally relented, short of killing her only useful- sort of- source of information. Other-Chloe sat up, coughing and gasping for air. After what felt like an eternity, she spoke once again, still panting a little bit as her heart had almost leaped through her chest when Chloe had dived upon her. "What... the fuck... was that for?!"

"You fucking knew. You _KNEW_ she had been hooking up with Frank. All this fucking- TIME!" With that, Chloe threw the notebook across the aether with all the force she could. It bounced off of the far side, emptying its loose contents and settling once again to the floor. Other-Chloe sighed, having finally got her breathing back under control. "Yes... I knew. I just thought it would be better if you found out for yourself, okay? So don't go so fucking psycho on me." Chloe was still boiling over with rage. One piece of her graffiti popped into her head.

 _Everyone lies. No exceptions. No shit._

Chloe stood up, making her way toward another porthole. She knew what that day had been. It had been March, maybe the 27th or 28th. Around the time that fucking two-face had gone missing in the first place. She'd met up with her in her usual place that day. And, as that fucking notebook had turned up, Frank was her next stop before the Vortex Douche Committee party. Chloe stooped down as she continued walking, scooping up the notebook once again. She had made up her mind. Rachel Amber was about to get the door kicked in on her little secret, big time. As Chloe approached it, Other-Chloe's eyes shot wide in horror. "Oh shit... no! NO! Don't you even fucking think about it!" She bolted across, grabbing one of Chloe's arms as the other made contact with the porthole. Chloe turned back to her, as her hand vanished through the porthole. "Try fucking stopping me." With that, a blinding flash of light engulfed the space, blinding Other-Chloe for a moment. As the blinding white receded, she stumbled back to the porthole, trying desperately to intervene in what she already knew was about to happen. She punched at the view, with no effect. She turned her back to the porthole, and closed her eyes, tears already forming.

She already knew what was going to happen.

 **A/N**

 **Yep. That's the direction we're running in. And I know a lot of readers are going to want to kill me for even considering the demise of Amberprice. As they say, don't say I didn't warn ya.**


	9. Eye of the Storm

_American Rust._

 _March 28, 2013._

 _Day of Rachel Amber's disappearance._

Chloe lay on the makeshift couch, smoking the last of her battered and twisted cigs. The smoke, acrid as it was, settled her down. Not by much, but just enough so that she wouldn't explode the moment she saw that fucking two-faced, double-crossing... Chloe sighed, exhaling another lungful of smoke. The weather outside was rather fitting, given her current mood: It was the start of spring; and yet the sky was clouded over in ominous black-grey clouds. Almost as though the universe knew what was coming next. It felt almost wrong to be doing this, but at the same time, she _wanted_ to confront Rachel. No way in hell was she about let this go, and she wanted to get answers from Rachel herself. She'd made sure to bring the notebook with her too: one of the first things Rachel had said to her that she took to heart, while they were riding out on that boxcar having skipped school, was that "When you're the DA's daughter, I guess lying is... something you get used to." How the fuck she hadn't gotten the hint then, she didn't know. She couldn't believe, either, that she'd blindly decided to take that money from Frank to pay for repairs to the truck. Like hell she was going to do that now.

What was she going to say to her? _Hi, I just discovered that you're banging Frank behind my back, so I'd like some answers. Pretty Please?_ No, like hell was that going to be the tone of things and she knew it. Accept the fact she had been two-timed, hold Rachel's hand and sing kumbaya? Chloe had to suppress an irate laugh at that notion. _Nobody_ crossed her without getting the repercussions. Not even Rachel. Chloe exhaled, looking up through the holes in the rusted metal sheets as raindrops begun falling through them. This was going to be fucking torture and she knew it. A noise in the open doorway broke Chloe away from her thoughts, as she brought her eyes to study the figure in the door. The face she'd taken for her angel. The angel who had turned out to be a demon in disguise.

"So, uh, what was so urgent you needed me here so fast? Having a heart attack?" Rachel, ever the joker, asked. Chloe responded by flicking the butt of the cigarette, embers still lit, toward her, it landing at her feet and spraying embers, fanning out toward her foot. Rachel's smile faded somewhat, as it dawned on her. "You're not happy to see me, are you?" Chloe drew the battered notebook from the pocket inside her jacket, weighing it in the palm of her hand, before throwing it flatly. It landed between Rachel's feet, the thud like a gunshot. "Open it." Chloe's voice barely masked her emotions. Betrayal, fury, disbelief... the whole shitshow. Rachel knelt down, scooping up the book in her hands, before turning the pages open. Her face paled as she recognised the handwriting. And the notebook.

"Wh...where did you..?" Chloe's expression remained blank, her only real way of not caving anyone's skull in, for now at least. "I'm asking the questions here. One: How long has this been going on?"

Rachel's eyes lifted up from the pages of the notebook. She was already starting to tremble, her eyes watering up, her expression one of utmost fear. Fear of what was coming next, and probably of the fact that Chloe had somehow come upon the one secret that could easily blow them apart. "How did you..." Chloe snapped. Her patience had gone sailing out the fucking windows when she'd found this was going on. She stood up from her battered throne, closing the space between the two of them until she could grab Rachel. "How. Long?" Rachel was bordering on tears. "Five."

Chloe's blood was starting to hit boiling point. "Five what?" "Five...months." Chloe's poker face pretty much dropped altogether at this point, instead being replaced by an expression of outrage. "FIVE MONTHS?" she growled, edging ever-closer to her betrayer, "you KNEW I was going to get the money from Frank to get the truck working. You KNEW the only thing I held in my heart was the plan for US to blow this place off, together. So _WHY_ , oh why, have I come across a letter that you wrote that _prick_ suggesting you two leaving. Without me?" She grabbed Rachel by the shoulders. "More to the point, why the fuck stab me in the back?" Chloe's voive was almost a whimper by the end of the last question, but ahe just about held her nerve. She didn't know whether it was regret, anguish or outrage

"C...chloe, I-"

"No. No explanations. Not for something lile this." Chloe took a few paces away from the near-wreck she had created. "Looks like you have one thing in common with James, you sure know how to lie and deceive those closest you." she stopped as she looked once again at Rachel, the expression on her face almost wanting her to take that back. Almost. There were fucking submarines that'd have a hard time making as low a blow as that, and she knew it. The fire in Rachel's eyes as she stormed toward her, before slapping her across the face with more force than Chloe could remember ever being hit with. She recoiled, rolling with the hit. As she straightened herself, the fury inside her was let slip from its restraints. "It's on now!" She unleashed a sledgehammer of a punch into Rachel's nose, immediately drawing blood and a pained, distraught yelp from Rachel. She turned and disappeared back through the doorway, her sobs fading until they were overwritten by the clunking and screeching metal of the train passing, before a half-silence returned.

As it enveloped her, Chloe imploded. She already knew what she'd just done as she tried putting the fragments of herself together. She was the one in the wrong, not you Chlo. But did I fucking have to go and drag it out in the open like that? Gah, I don't know any more. As she lay, the pool of rainwater mixing with her tears, she felt the tingling of the white nothing trying to reclaim her once more. She hit herself across the side of the head, causing the interdimensional repo to stop for the time being. She got out her phone, damp from the downpour, and started typing as thunder begun to fill the air.

 _Chloe,_ _Rachel has more than likely broke up with you. You discovered she was banging Frank- as in your dealer, Frank (or should I say, ex-dealer?) and you found out about it, and confronted her. If you don't believe it, go to the hut and look under the makeshift table. There should be a notebook there. Whatever you do... don't look back._ _Good luck,_ _you._

As Chloe hit save on the memo, a pain worse than any she'd experienced before tore through her.

 _Limbo_

"WHY? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?" Other-Chloe's incredulous screams pierced Chloe's eardrums as she found herself back in her own personal hell. By the time Chloe had got her bearing back, Other-Chloe had punched her in the stomach with the force of a cannon. She cried out in pain as she fell to the floor, with Other-Chloe following up by giving her a kick into the side of the chest, hard enough to break the ribs unfortunate enough to be in the way. Chloe was sure she would pass out with the pain. She felt a force on top of her, as her incandescent and heartbroken other form pinned her to the floor, both hands around her throat, as she continuted to rebound Chloe's head off of the ground. "I SWEAR, I'M GONNA CHOKE THE MOTHERFUCKING LIFE OUT OF YOU!" Chloe could feel her body starting to numb as the air failed to reach her limbs, her vision beginning to grey, and her lungs screaming out for air. In the moments before she passed out, she had an idea. This other motherfucker, if it really was some version of her, would be pretty vulnerable to a hit to the wrist, seeing as how the break still hadn't healed properly after that skateboarding accident and not being able to afford a trip to the hospital.

With the last of her strength, she aimed a blow against the hands threatening to crush her larynx like a grape. Other-Chloe howled in pain and released some of the pressure on Chloe's neck. It wasn't much, but it was all the window Chloe needed. She followed with an elbow into the side of the face, knocking Other-Chloe onto the floor. Now, Chloe went on the offensive, raining blow after blow onto Other-Chloe. She collapsed forward, exhausted, grabbing Other-Chloe by the jaw.

"Now...you...fucking listen...", Chloe started, exhausted from the near-asphyxia combined with the effort of beating the crap out of her alternate tormentor, "It..had to be... done". By now, Other-Chloe had just about recovered from being beaten to within an inch of her life, and Chloe had enough breath to have a coherent sentence. "Think about it, _dumbass_ : Why were you in the bathroom with Prescott to begin with? Why did you take out that loan to begin with? Who the fuck encouraged you to do it?"

Other-Chloe begun to whimper, trembling as she tried her hardest not to cry herself to death in front of Chloe. "God... I think... I think you've... done it."

Chloe was confused. "The fuck do you mean, done it?"

Other-Chloe pointed to a porthole. The porthole that _had_ shown the graves of Chloe and her father, flanked by those of Rachel and Max. It was replaced, now, by something somewhat different. Rachel's grave was there, but the date was different. It now stood at April 20th, while her name, along with Max's headstone, had disapeared.

"W-wait. What does that mean?"

Before she got any kind of answer, she was met with a deafening whining, like that a microphone made sometimes, as everything now went black.

 **A/N**

 **I can imagine some of you will want my head on a spike, either for executing this or for executing it badly. My inspiration came from The Butterfly Effect, also the inspiration of Life is Strange. The synopsis of that film should make it clear enough. Things may be going slowly for the next few chapters BUT it will get faster and faster paced. I'm aiming to keep chapters up at a length though.**


	10. Alive Again

_The Price Household._

 _7th_ _October 2013._

Chloe awoke, limbs flailing, as the whine in her ears receded. She glanced around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her bed, still as unmade and scruffy as ever. The red and blue light coming in from the window through the stars and stripes next to her window. The various posters and tags around her room, all as they had been, though some appeared to have been added. Her desk across by the door, still adorned with all the various trinkets she'd acquired. Clothes littering the floor everywhere. She was back. A song was on her stereo, one she felt she knew. It sounded like Firewalk, but she swore they'd never wrote this song, let alone performed. Yet her subconscious knew every word, as she began singing along.

 _Don't feel sad, Life is far too short, to feel that, you are not alone, I'm right here by your-_

Chloe yelped as she noticed the slightly disgruntled figure sitting up from down one side of the bed. She didn't recognise her at first. The hair, shoulder-ish length and somewhat unkempt, coupled with an innocent- if irritated- looking, freckled face. The details flooded back, Chloe started remembering all kinds. And _who_ this was.

"MAX!" Chloe cried out with elation, practically diving on top of her, to be greeted by a a shriek, equal parts surprised and amused. Chloe wrapped her arms around her, almost in tears from the happiness of seeing her now-reunited best friend. "H-hey, thanks for the morning grope, Chlo'. Just tell me where to find your snooze button next time, okay?" Chloe was confused initially, before realising what the supposedly inanimate object her foot had caught during her return-to-body spasm had been.

"Oh, shit, did I...? Sorry." Chloe's cheeks glowed with embarrassment. And Max, true to form, was _loving it_.

"Apology accepted. Besides, you were right: I am here, by your side." Max's bashful expression at trying to pull one of her typically horrible puns was still adorable. "You look so cute when you've done something dumb like that, you know?"

Max laughed somewhat, throwing the pillow at Chloe that had followed Max off the bed. "Dork."

Chloe almost froze, as about a million trains of thought created one massive trainwreck in her head. Should she tell Max about what she'd been through? Had Max had her powers in this timeline? Would Max believe her if she explained everything? After what felt like an eternity of contemplating and deciding which option was best, she settled her internal conflict. She took a deep breath as she figured how to word it exactly.

"Um, Max?"

Max's expression was odd. Yet she almost looked like she knew what was coming next.

"Y..eah?"

"What would you say... if I told you I have bounced across a whole load of timelines to put something right?" Max's jaw dropped. "So _you_ were the one who fucked with the timeline this time around!"

Chloe was taken aback. "You mean...?"

"Yep. You didn't imagine me having time travel, in one timeline or another, I've still somehow got that ability butI swore to God I'd _never_ use it again, not after what happened. Or is going to happen. Or is happening." Max growled slightly in frustration. "Damn, this time travel thing really messes with me." Chloe laughed quietly, holding Max closer. "I know how it feels, now at least. You were saying?"

"Oh, that! I remember the conversation we had back on the day William..." Max tailed off, before she struck a nerve or five. "...and that, day , on the cliff. After-" Max stopped, bordering on tears. Chloe felt something tearing at her inside, seeing Max in bits about this again, tears begjnning to well up in her eyes as well. Chloe tightened her arms around Max. "I'm not gonna let you go, Max. Never again."

Max's arms returned the hug, as the pair sat in each other's arms for what felt like an eternity, never wanting the moment to end and at the same time wanting to live every moment they had together to the full. She decided, at long last, to break the silence that had settled over the pair of them.

"So... there's a hella lot of stuff that I'm gonna need you to catch me up on, I guess?"

Max nodded, that almost awkward smile at the corner of her mouth. She'd figured that would be the problem.

"I would say so." Chloe took a glance at the readout on her alarm clock, stifling a surprised gasp and snort of terrified laughter.

"October 7th. Hell, today's... today's..." She could feel herself welling up again. Remembering that today was the day you were meant to catch a bullet in the chest was obviously going to set off emotion. Then again, it wasn't even getting killed that was threatening to drown Max in her tears; Chloe had seen what the end result had been. She'd even prevented it once over. She brought her head back down to catch Max's gaze, finding it too was bordering on a meltdown.

"I...I know. Never again."

The pair lay by the bedside for a few minutes, still becoming used to the world they were now living in, before either moved or spoke again. Chloe checked her phone, expecting to find another text from Frank, threatening her over the three grand she'd loaned to fix her truck. Yet there was nothing there. She didn't even have his number. Odd.

"Max, have I been to see any skeevy-looking guys like Frank for pot, or complained about my dealer wanting my head over any debt, have I?"

Max looked confused. "That must've been in another timeline. Last I checked, you've been clean since sometime April, I think. And as for debts... you got- or had- a job. And who's Frank?"

Now it was Chloe's turn to be perplexed. None of this made any sense. "Wait... so my truck-"

"Has been on the road since last month. We managed to scrape together enough money between us to get most of the parts, the rest we scavenged from the wrecks in that old junkyard hang-out of yours." Max giggled slightly. "I did my best to help fix the truck, but... I made a useless grease-monkey compared to you. Anyways, how about we blow this joint and go somewhere nicer to reminisce, huh?"

Chloe smiled, her head still a whirlwind of information. "Y'know what, let's."

 _The Lighthouse._

 _About half an hour later._

"When you said somewhere nice, I thought you meant romantic. Not here, again." Chloe teased.

"I figured it was a fitting place to wax some more about the world. Unless you wanna try lying on the railroad tracks again, dork." Chloe punched her in the arm, jokingly. Max was so much more at ease, and in some ways more badly behaved, than in the previous timeline. It was creeping Chloe out a little, but she could learn to like it. Besides, seeing Max so confident in herself was a whole load better than the Max she could recall from some fragments of the other countless timelines; the fragile, timid Max. Chloe smirked as she looked once again at the young lady in front of her, almost a mirror image of those other Maxes. And of course, she _would_ bring up that time when she almost got herself pancaked by a damn train. Funnily enough, Chloe had avoided tracks pretty much ever since.

"Uh, it's not bad, I guess. I think I can do us one better though."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Chloe led Max in the direction of the lighthouse, still standing its silent vigil over the tranquil bay. "Chlo', you realise that door's been locked ever since we got caught in there as kids, right?" Chloe smiled, in the way she usually smiled right before doing something incredibly reckless.

"I happen to have a key. Stand back a sec'." With that, Chloe gave an almost karate-like howl before bolting at the door and jumping, giving it a two-footed kick, before collapsing to the ground with an outcry of surprise and pain. "Shitballs!" Max took a look at the door, before unbolting it, having noticed that the padlock was now lying at the foot of the door. With a push, she swung the door open a little on its rusted hinges, before turning back to Chloe, who was still rolling about on the floor at the foot of the lighthouse clutching her ankles, with a smug grin.

"It's called 'looking before you leap'. Idiot." Chloe got to her feet, still somewhat uncomfortable from the effects of trying to double-foot a locked door, before leaning on Max and ruffling her hair. "And it's called _'screw you and your look before you leap',_ hippie. Now c'mon, those views are ours!" With that, Chloe started half-running, half-hobbling up the stairs with Max close behind. They burst from the glazed door onto the balcony of the lighthouse, to be greeted by the surreal morning weather. The sun was still pretty low in the sky, its orange and reddish hues creating all kinds of reflections off of the water and the thin blanket of cloud close to the Bay. Max was as awestruck as Chloe. She drew her camera, before reconsidering. "What's with the change of heart, Max?"

The sheepish expression told Chloe enough. "Well... it's pretty incriminating evidence if they find a selfie of us, us here, right?"

Chloe laughed at the notion. "In this shit-pit? Gimme a break..." The pair sat down, legs dangling below the balcony, arms on the lower bar of the handrail. "So, how's about you get me up to speed on the million or so things I should remember but don't?"

Max took a deep breath, sighing as she exhaled. She had a feeling that this was going to take some time. "Well, you were asking earlier about that debt and your ex-dealer. Well, the reason you never took the loan out with him, I'd guess, is because you explained to me he'd been having an affair with someo-"

Max stopped, noting Chloe rocking back and forth, head in hands. "Shit, you okay Chloe? Speak to me!" Chloe flopped backward onto the metal walkway, with a groan after her head hit the harder-than-her-skull surface.

"I'm starting to remember things a little more. I remember that: sneaking into the RV, finding out about... shit, Rachel. Where is she, Max?" Max looked a little disconcerted, but still held her nerve, more or less.

"You want me to take you to see Rachel?"

"Yeah, obviously." Max hoisted herself back up, trying not to fall of her own clumsiness. "Well, we're best off taking your truck. I'm driving."

Chloe was again both dumbstruck and awestruck. "Shit, you can drive as well?" Max nodded. "Who do you think got you home after you passed out drunk, on any of the million times you've done that since we got back together?" A lift of the head from Chloe, as she put two and three together.

The pair sat silently together in the cab of Chloe's truck, in a better condition than Chloe remembered it- no missing floorpan, a lot less rust than before- until Max had got onto the main road off of the dirt track that led to the woods below the lighthouse. "So, what exactly does she mean to you, anyway?" Chloe looked at her, confused. "Are you cereal? You know as well as I do that she cheated on me with that scumbag." Max looked away, trying to avoid locking gaze while also keeping the truck from finding its mark on the nearest tree. Chloe sensed something was up. She didn't know quite what but _something_ was amiss. "What? Dude, you're starting to weird me the hell out. Talk to me." Max sighed, again. "I guess... I guess it's just another timeline kicking in. My bad." Chloe felt a knot in her stomach as she recognised the road, and where it led. "Shit, this is..."

"Yep." Max looked more worried and apprehensive by the second. They pulled up a little way down the road outside a bleak black metal archway, extending over a pair of equally bleak and black gates.

The metalwork above intensified the feelings building in Chloe's stomach, to the point it felt like someone jabbing her continually with a knife. "Max, I... I remember the other timeline, where we..." Chloe stopped, her words cut off by a sob. Rachel had cheated on her, betrayed her, was going to leave this hell on earth without her; where the fuck was this sudden burst of emotions coming from? "You sure you want to do this? We can always-" Chloe put a hand across her mouth, tears still building. "W-we're going."

As Chloe opened the door of the truck and tried to step out, she more or less collapsed. Max caught her with a slight groan at the sudden weight on her. As they trudged through the gates of the graveyard, Max started welling up as well. "The amount of times I found myself in this fucking place, with a bottle of whatever I could get hold of..." Chloe murmured an acknowledgement, knowing what Max had been through in the reality where she'd told Max to let her die. It must have been hell for her, coming up here- every day knowing Max, poor thing- drowning her regrets under a torrent of whatever liquor she'd been able to beg, or borrow... she couldn't imagine Max stealing it, but given all the different iterations of Max that must exist through all the timelines, you never know.

And Chloe could picture Max's expression, from all the times she'd spent staring at it until it broke her, as she broke down in front of the headstone of one of the biggest fuck-ups of Arcadia Bay. Hating herself for every missed moment, every time she'd had a chance to be in touch but that she hadn't. Wishing she could go back, just once more, and die instead of Chloe. Even die with Chloe, so that the pair could go into the afterlife, hand in hand. Listening to Max pour her heart out to the slab of granite, or whatever they'd been able to afford to make the block out of, all the while trying to understand why this had become the only option.

They arrived at their destination. The headstone stood out somewhat amongst the others, as rather than being black, or any other monochrome colour, it had a yellowish tint. Max released Chloe's arm, and she sank to her knees, head in hands. Max sat down beside her, crying all the same. "T-this fucking place! W-w-why...fucking hell!" Max held Chloe once again, her arms wrapped around her older, yet currently more vulnerable best friend. It was torturing her soul to see Chloe doing this, again. It had been bad enough when they'd found Rachel, back in the very first- or however many-eth- iteration of time. It was bad enough that time around for Chloe, having only a minor understanding and no opportunity to confront Rachel over her involvement with Frank. Given the state she'd been in when Max had found her all that time ago, it didn't take a massive imagination to figure out the possibilities of what had happened. After what felt like an hour, Chloe regained enough composure to put a sentence together. "I...I fucking hate her for what she did, and yet... knowing, knowing she's here, dead... my heart feels like it's been fucking ripped out." The sobbing continued, as Max continued to comfort her. "I...I know how it feels." Chloe took her head out from under her arms as she sat in front of the headstone, looking Max in the eyes as she wrapped an arm around her. "How the fuck do you cope with it? Remembering all these things, even the minor hell I've been through, it's enough to mess me up inside. I don't know how you do it." Max gave her a slight smile. "Truthfully? I don't. I've never coped with it, especially not before this time." The pair stood up, hand in hand, as they walked back toward their ticket to anywhere. "What happened?"

"To Rachel, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Get in, and I'll tell you on the way."

Once again, Max took the wheel, as the duo continued their journey around the area. Now, they had arrived at somewhere Max had hoped would feel a little more comfortable. She knew Chloe had avoided it like the plague since Max had came back to the area, but in effect it was a different Chloe she had brought here. The same old junkyard, pretty much. Except that mercifully, they'd removed the remains of William's car from here around the start of the year. _One less painful memory for Chloe to be tormented by, for now,_ Max had concluded. It was now getting toward mid-afternoon, the sun quite high in the sky and only penetrating the odd gap in the thin cloud, creating a patchwork of yellow light and dark shadows. The shack hadn't changed much, except that when Max went to scribble her name on the brickwork some time ago she could see another name had rather aggressively been overwritten, as though to strike it off.

Chloe's impatience got the better of her, desperate to fill in what was left of the missing events in the timeline for her. "So, how exactly did Rachel...?" Chloe was still not looking herself, a picture of fear and apprehension all at once, but damn she was persistent. Max cleared her throat, preparing to give her the 4-1-1. "You'd... came across some information in Frank's RV, sometime January I think you said, which made it clear to you that Rachel was banging Frank behind your- what? Those were your own words, when you filled me in on it a while ago. Anyway, You left it for a couple of months, until the night of the Vortex party. Then, you... confronted her. Here. From what you said, it was pretty open-shut, after you threw the book at her, _literally_ ", gesturing at the the battered wad of faux leather-bound paper nestled under the cable reel that doubles as a table, "things got a little violent. You said something to her, compared her to James I think- I see that expression, you said you regretted calling her that, so chill out- and she slapped you. Then, you busted her nose, and she left. And you didn't speak again. Anyways, she went straight from here to Frank. She never went to the party, she never disappeared."

Chloe still had more questions than answers. "So how the fuck did she end up in the ground?"

"Oh, right! I lost myself a second. Anyway, one night she was at Frank's, a few months before I came back, and things got out of hand. The cops reckon they'd had a lover's spat, and Frank accidentally stabbed her. She died before she hit the floor of that moving pile of junk."

"That asshole killed her? Tell me where he is, I wanna fucking have his guts!" Max tilted her head, before answering that remark. "You'll have to dig him up first, assuming there's any of his guts left." "What?"

Max continued, knowing the next part may give Chloe some closure on the whole matter. "Remember I told you that you'd cleaned yourself up? Well, there's a good reason for it. The cops found a note as well, alongside his body. It was pretty hard to read, apparently it was covered in blood, but it was a note. Mainly apologising for killing the love of his life. He had a gun up in there, he took that to Pompidou. And then..." Max mimed putting a gun to her temple, thumb raised like its hammer, before bringing it down. Chloe sighed, leaning back in her seat. "No more Frank Bowers. Some real fucking Romeo-And-Juliet shit, huh?"

Chloe smiled. "You may be the biggest hippie I know, but every other full moon, you get it just right. You know that?" Max moved closer to her, putting an arm around her shoulder once more. "I know. I hope that makes you feel better." Max tilted her head upward, to look through the gaps in the roof that Chloe was, watching the golden pinpricks of light passing over the area light searchlights. "Still, there was some good to come out of all the shit that happened." Chloe canted her head over, to stare into Max's eye. "What would that be, exactly?" Max smiled, as she turned to face Chloe properly again. "It got me back here a little sooner..."

 **A/N**

 **Okay** **, there is a flashback on the way.** **With any luck, this chapter has filled in the gaps left by the divergence of this timeline from the original.** **Also, despite the events within the upcoming flashback, I felt it an idea to try and make it a little more lighthearted.**


	11. When it Rains

_Seattle, WA._

 _June 3rd, 2013._

 _2 Days after Rachel's funeral._

Max was out and about as usual at this time of day. Despite the miserable weather, drizzle that was slowly worsening to rain, there were still some excellent opportunities for photographs around the city. It struck Max as odd that Seattle was the only place where shitty weather never failed in bringing out an incredible view. Even after almost five years, she still hadn't quite adjusted to the massive amount of concrete and man-made structures compared to natural fauna and flora. It didn't mean they weren't good for photographs, as she'd found when she went off-track one day and snooped around beneath the underpasses and in some of the less-travelled areas.

She had to admit, aside from gang markings of times gone by, the murals some had created were admirable. If a little worn by the years of neglect. She'd settled on her final stop for today for some good photos, before heading home. Point Defiance. It was in Tacoma, about an hour or so from her house, less if the buses were on time, but the views out toward Vashon were stunning.

Especially on a day like today, where the rain and mist combined to give the Island an even greater air of mystery, with the various collision lights on some distant structures being faintly visible, looking like some weird, other-planetary auras of light. That, and it made a nice change from the urban patchwork landscape she'd been exploring all day.

She looked out the window, recognising this place as her stop, as the rickety old bus pulled up at the stop, just a short while away from the entrance to the park. She sighed as she stepped off. _Thank god for student passes. I can go anywhere in the area and it doesn't cost me a pretty penny._ As the bus pulled away, with a roaring of its ancient cooler fan, and the squeak of its brakes releasing, Max took a glance up at the sky. It was still a rolling blanket of grey, just visible through the haze created by the incessant rainfall. The trail out to the shore was already flooding in places, pools forming across them. It didn't bother Max much, except for misjudging the depth of one and soaking a foot up to the ankle. "Shit. Well, too late to get cold feet about being here. Literally." She trudged onward through the rain, doing her best to avoid a cold and muddy bath, or a face-plant if she tripped over herself again.

After another ten minutes or so of fighting through the weather, and her clothes somewhat more soaked than they would have otherwise been, she arrived at her favoured spot, a few hundred yards down the shore from the official viewpoint. That place was nice- if you were a tourist with barely any understanding of one end of a camera from another. She knelt down, trying not to get her knee covered in sand as well as being soaked, and clicked the shutter, immediately sheltering the photograph from the rain as it developed fully. Another nice one for the collection. She replaced her camera and the photo into her bag, before glancing at her phone. She was due back an hour ago, maybe more. Ah, well. A good opportunity like that didn't wait forever. And besides, she was nearly eighteen, not eight. Instead of chancing the undoubtedly more inundated paths through the woods in the centre of the park, Max walked via the coastal path, which had just enough tree cover to keep her a little drier, and a solid enough walking surface that she could avoid any embarrassing mishaps.

As Max passed by where one of the benches were, she stopped in her tracks. A forlorn soul, head in hands, bawling her eyes out over some imbalance in life, a few incoherent muttered words here and there. Her jacket soaked to the point it was almost glistening, the torn jeans equally soaked, turning them a blackish blue. The rim of her white shirt, exposed slightly at the back of her neck, was drenched to a point where the white almost looked a light grey. A necklace chain could also be seen, jabbing into the back of the shirt. The battered boots she had on must've had a pint or two of water in them by now, judging by the amount of water streaming down her legs into them. And that beanie, covering all but a few strands of what looked to be a bright blue head or hair. Max broke track, heading for the empty space on the bench next to the broken girl she had come across. A few more details were beginning to stand out, as a tear on the shoulder of her jacket exposed a glimpse of a tattoo. Max cleared her throat, causing the girl to jump. "Oh, shit, I didn't mean to startle..." Max tailed off, as the girl turned to face her. Her style was totally different, a polar opposite of what Max remembered. But even with five years of aging- considerably more, anyone else would've guessed- she'd recognise the lines of that face anywhere. Max almost choked on her words. "C-chloe?!"

Chloe stood up from the bench, closing on Max. Max couldn't tell what she was going to do next. "Five years... five fucking years, Max. I've needed you so many times I lost count. Why the fuck did you never even _bother_ your ass so much as to send a text?", Chloe demanded, pointing a finger squarely at Max. Chloe's voice was more in line with a pained howl than a coherent or rational voice.

Max was torn apart, she'd lost Chloe's number years ago. She'd tried god-only-knows how many times to get it back, but she'd never succeeded. "Chloe...I, I'm sorry, okay?" "Sorry doesn't _fucking_ make up for five years of hell and nobody to go to!" "Not like that! I fucked up, okay? I...was out on a bridge one day a week after...I got here...and I was trying to take a selfie on my phone."

"So? What fucking difference does that make? You still never called, texted or even tried to see if I was still breathing! What kind of friend does that?"

Max took a step closer, putting her hands on Chloe's shoulders despite her attempts to stop her. A wave of energy had come over her as she continued to try and explain.

"That...That's the thing! Some dickhead trucker blazed their horn as they passed me, I jumped... the fucking thing fell out of my hand and into the bay. I...I'd never remembered to write any numbers down. I-" Max stopped and swallowed back the rapidly forming tears as best she could.

"I can't...I can't imagine how it must've been for you. I-I'm sorry, I should never have fucking left. I'm an asshole for going when I did, and I've..."

Max stopped again, taking another shaky breath.

"I've thought about you every, single, day. Tried to imagine how this would go down."

Chloe's expression softened, realising that Max had indeed never forgotten about her, as Max's arms collapsed from holding her by the shoulders into a damp, cold, embrace. Chloe felt five years of anger wash away with every raindrop that struck her, as she finally replied to Max's explanation. "Damn right...you shouldn't have left. I...I'm not gonna hold it against you..." Chloe started chuckling slightly, relieved to have finally found her long-lost, best, and only friend in the world, as she wrapped her arms around Max to return the embrace. "Klutz. I'm...I'm just glad to have my first mate back." Max was incoherent for sobbing, mostly with joy at reconciling with her, yet also in the same position as Chloe, though unable to own up for her torrent of tears.

The rain intensified once again, And the pair glanced skyward as they begun to regain some semblance of an ability to talk. Chloe loosened her grip, taking half a pace back to try and release Max from her. "I..I gotta go. Back to the hell I still have to call home, I guess." Max looked at her, and Chloe already knew what she was going to say.

"No way am I letting you go home like this. Hell, you're soaked and freezing- as am I, I guess- you're coming home. With me."

"Er, won't your parents mind? I mean, look at me: hell, they'll think you've befriended the city mugger!"

Max hesitated. "Okay: we'll go someplace to dry off and not looked like drowned cats. _Then,_ we go home. We have five years of waxing about life to catch up on. And there's a pretty nice cafe we should drop in at, you look like you could use something to eat."

Max took hold of Chloe's hand, pulling her slightly to motivate her into leaving the spot she stood on as they walked along the road back toward the nearest bus stop, hand in hand. "So... how is this as a place to live, anyway Maxi?"

Max giggled slightly in reply. "It's good, lots of places to explore... not quite as good as being side-by-side with my captain, again." At last, they returned to the main road. Max checked the timetable. "Damn! Looks like we're walking for now, the nearest bus stop to get back to Seattle is a mile away. As the duo walked along the pavement leading away from the ferry terminal, a blared horn caused Chloe to jump, panicking and scanning her surroundings for the incoming truck.

Max took hold of her, trying her best to calm her down "Chloe! Chloe, look, it's okay! That was just some prick driving the other way." Chloe's hyperventilating calmed as she settled again.

"Sorry. I've been like that since... you know. A truck horn tends to set me off like that."

"I get it. Don't worry about it, I'm here for you." The vague rumbling of thunder in the far distance was beginning, as they reached the right bus stop. "Next bus is due... in about-" Max sneezed, the cold beginning to get to her more, "Five minutes."

"Aww, Max has a cold. Here, lemme give you some warmth," Chloe chuckled again, wrapping her arms around Max as another semi tore past. The driver seemed to have deliberately targeted the pool of water forming next to the bus stop, sending a wave of water crashing over the pair, replied to by startled and shocked shrieks. As the semi continued rolling down the road, a further drenched and pissed Chloe screamed after it, "You dickwad! Wait until I get to you, I'll fucking skin you alive!", as Max laughed herself halfway to breathlessness.

After a few more minutes shivering on the pavement, the antique City Transport bus pulled up, sending another small splash onto the edge of the pavement. The doors swung open, as the pair stepped aboard. "Two tickets to Union Square, please." The bus driver shot Chloe an apprehensive glance, who returned it with the sort of glance a wolf gives its next meal. "Ma'am, you do understand we have a no-transport policy for vagrants?"

"She's a friend of mine, from out of town. Oregon, to be exact. Not exactly a vagrant.", Max corrected him, defending Chloe. The bus driver raised his hands slightly in concession. "Okay, two to Union Square. You got it." Max nodded a thank-you to the driver, as they went to find a pair of seats aboard the almost-empty bus.

"Jerk-off", Chloe muttered under her breath, as they sat by the steamed-up window as the bus moved off. Max snickered.

"I've met worse bus drivers than that." Chloe shot her a surprised look.

"Seriously?" As the bus trundled on, along the I-5, Max's phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from her mother.

 _Mom: Where are you, sweetie? You were due back two hours ago._

 _Max: Mom... I'm almost 18, relax ;) Bumped into an old friend, catching up a little._

 _Mom: Shall I expect them for dinner?_

 _Max: ...And for the night. We're going via the cafe._

 _Mom: And when shall I expected the two drowned accomplices through my door?_

Max smiled at that typical bit of satire from her mother, before tapping her reply.

 _Max: Give it till about 5. Maaybe a little later. xoxo_

"Who was that?" Max jumped. "Oh, just my mom. She still thinks I'm, like, fourteen."

Chloe gave her one of her famed mischief smiles. "Mine usually acts like I don't exist. No, sorry, that's my step-douche. But we'll wax some more about that when we get to this great chow-down place of yours."

Max smiled, taking her hand. "How'd you get here, anyway? Not that I'm complaining."

"Ever curious, Maxi. One of my past-times is boxcar riding. After everything that's happened recently..." Chloe tailed off again, gazing vacantly past Max and through the fogged glass pane. "...I was thinking of leaving and never going back. Maybe just walking off the face of the Earth."

Max gripped her hand tighter. "No way. I'm not leaving you again. Not if I can help it. Still, this is looking a lot like our stop. Let's get something to eat, and some coffee, or coca, or whatever you're drinking these days. Then we can continue this."

The bus groaned to a halt, outside the corner next to one of the main rail stations in the city. As they went through the door, they were hit by the aromas of various coffee types being ground. "Of course it would be a hipster cafe."

Max smiled again, blushing somewhat. "What did you expect? A diner?" Chloe punched her in the arm, greeted by a yelp. The two found an empty table in a quiet corner by the windows, also fogged up from the heat in the room. "Here we are, now we can actually dry off. So, what shall we start with?"

"You meaning food, or the 'catching up on the five years we've missed and how my life went to shit'?"

"Both, I guess." As if on cue, one of the waitresses came across to them, having finished washing up a few glasses. "Hey, Max, how's it going?" The waitress shot Chloe a puzzled look. "Who's she, might I ask?"

" _She_ has a name, thank you, and it's Chloe. Want me to spell it for you?" Chloe's voice was sarcastic as ever, though this remark was met by a semi-subtle kick to the ankle under the table. "Anyway, what'll it be, girls?" Chloe opened her mouth to order, but Max beat her off the mark.

"A toasted ham sandwich and a coffee for me please Sharon, you know the way I like it, and a bacon sandwich with egg and beans for Chloe. With a black coffee."

Max leaned back in her seat, and Chloe was treated to that oh-so-smug expression she'd always remembered and loved. "Told you I'd thought about you every day. I just hope your taste in food hasn't gone the way of your style." Chloe snorted a little with amusement. "Still the same hippie. My hippie."

Chloe glanced at the waitress as she headed back toward the counter, giving her a somewhat evil stare. "What the hell is it with everyone in this town? Is it 'shit-talk Chloe Price day' or something?"

Max tapped her fingers on the table, figuring out how best to reply. After a moment, she'd figured it. "No, they're just... not used to new people. Besides, most people in this town know me as something of a loner. Sure, I've made a few friends here, but I spend most of my time alone. So, naturally, it weirds them out a bit to see me with anyone. Never mind someone with your... sense of dress."

Chloe gave her another look out of the corner of her eye, with a raised eyebrow. "Just saying. Anyway..." Chloe stopped her as she remembered, the whole reason for stowing away on a two-hundred mile adventure from Arcadia Bay, to Portland, and onward to Seattle by boxcar.

"Yeah. About that... you might want to get some tissues ready. For me, that is. My life after you left was just on the same old downward spiral it had been on in the week before you left. Right up until three years ago. I was at an illegal- kinda- jam, up at that old abandoned mill. I had a couple of skeevy guys try and attack me after I'd accidentally pissed them off earlier in the night, before someone saved me. Her name... was Rachel Amber."

"Wait, I remember her, a little. Rachel as in, 'the DA's daughter Rachel'?"

"Yeah. Anyway, she broke into their fun, I wrecked one of their manhoods- he was asking for it-and we spent the rest of the night together, it was a drunken blur but damn it was unforgettable." Chloe's eyes had already starting to tear up. The memories were painful, remembering all the good that had been, before it all blew apart at the edges.

"Anyway, all kinds of crazy shit happened over the next couple of days: she accidentally started a fucking forest fire! All because she'd found out her dad was having an affair behind her mom's back. I got kicked out of Blackhell the next day for skipping school, but all kinds of crazy shit happened. Like stopping Rachel from getting drugged by Victoria Chase. You remember her, right?"

"Oh, you bet your ass I do. Still as vindictive a bitch as ever?"

"Uh-huh. And she's supposedly gonna attend Blackhell for another few years, oh joy. Anyway, Juliet was late because of the fire, so _Rachel_ talked me into taking her place. In the school production of the Tempest. As Ariel." Max couldn't keep down the laughter- the thought of Chloe in a costume like that was unbearable yet outright hilarious at the same time.

"I know. Gah, I still shudder at the sight of spandex. Anyway, on the way over to hers from the play, she asked me if I wanted to run away with her. Fuck the whole Bay off, and run for LA. I said yes, and I kissed her. Hell, from the moment we'd met in the mill, I'd ended up crazy in love with her."

Max was struck by this information. She hadn't seen that coming. "Wait a sec, so you're..."

"Yep. Consider that my coming-out statement. So, we went to hers, and _then_ shit got crazy. Or should I say, crazier. You remember that woman I said her dad was having an affair with? Turned out, the woman was Rachel's actual mom."

Chloe glanced at Max, who was sat with her jaw open. She put her fingers under Max's chin, before lifting them and closing her mouth.

"Anyhow, when we went out to see Frank about where to find her- you know, my friendly neighbourhood dealer and all- his boss-friend prick, Damon, showed up. Rachel got stabbed in the arm, I fucking shouldn't have let that happen, and Frank got Damon off us while I got her to the ER. She survived it. As did her mom, when Damon tried taking her hostage and killing her a little while later, and I duped him. He vanished after that, and it wasn't until earlier this year I discovered why."

Chloe stopped for a moment, looking a little more shaken. "And...it was then that everything fucking fell apart. I don't remember how, I don't even know how I found out, but I found some stuff in his RV I think. A photo of him and Damon with blood on it. I guessed he must've killed Damon the day I confronted him over Rachel's mom. And then..." Chloe stopped, producing a battered and saturated notebook. "This."

Max opened it up, flicking through the pages. "Rachel...was having an affair with him. Cheating on me. To him. I don't remember much...about when I did that, only that I found a note...typed on my phone...by me. I never spoke to her again, or anything else. And I kicked drugs. Frank was the only dealer in the area and was I hell going to him for anything. After that. And then..."

Chloe was almost cracking up by this point. Max could only imagine what was coming next, and none of the signs she was seeing were good. "Then... two weeks ago... Frank k...killed...her." Chloe broke down altogether, Max wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer, Chloe's head resting on her chest. "H-her...funeral...was two...days-s ago. I...I haven't been...home since. I-I...still...cared...and now she's gone."

Chloe's dissolved again to incoherent sobbing. Max held her closer still, feeling the burning of tears on the bottoms of her eyes as they built up. It was torture to see Chloe like this, to hear how painful life had been for her since Max had gone all that time ago. Max lifted her beanie up slightly, before leaning down to her and kissing her on the side of the cheek, still slightly damp from the saturated hat. "You've got me back. And I swear, on my life and sanity, that I'll do anything I can to keep you safe."

Chloe took a few gulps of air, as her tears petered out to hiccuping. Sharon brought across their orders, choosing not to risk losing an arm for getting involved in any of what was going on. Instead, she left Max the receipt, with a note scribbled on the back of it. Max glanced at it.

 _Yo, what's up with your hardass punk friend? She doesn't look like the type to go all mushy and emotional. S._

Max sent a scathing stare in her direction, giving her a strong enough message. Chloe sniffed a couple of times, like the Pearl's captain in one of their childhood favourites, before sitting herself back upright and wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "Man, this smells good. It could almost beat Joyce's food. Almost."

"Her food still as good as before?"

"Oh, yeah."

After a somewhat filling and warming meal, the duo left, Max leaving the money by the plates, as they continued to walk towards Max's home. The weather had eased back a little, to a fine mist of drizzle. It was a little duller, but still light. Max took Chloe by the hand again, leading her through the maelstrom of people and vehicles, to her doorstep.

"You sure this is a good idea?"

"Totally." With that, Max grasped the handle and flung the door open. "Hey mom, hey dad!" Vanessa happened to be walking out of the kitchen into the corridor as they entered.

"Hey honey, you gotta warn me before you take off for the day like..." Vanessa stopped as she saw the figure behind Max. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house? Out, before I call the cops! Now!"

"Mom, easy, It's-"

"No! Look, you're here now she can't hurt you. Out!" Chloe was taken aback. Did she really look that different?

"Look, Mrs. Caulfield, I know I look a little different than I used to. But it's me."

Vanessa ceased her torrent of abuse in Chloe's direction as her eyes widened in shock. "Oh my god... I'm so, _so_ sorry about that, Chloe! You scared me, you do look a million times different! And you can call me Vanessa. Come on in!"

"I know, right? I felt a change of style was necessary."

The rest of the evening passed without incident: no arguments occurred at the dinner table; said dinner table remained in one piece; rather than getting a salad bowl thrown through it; and nobody was trying to run away. Not just yet. Chloe retreated upstairs with Max, to her room. It was getting late, and the pair had had the energy taken right outta them. It had been a hella hectic day. As Chloe flopped onto the bed, next to Max, she noticed what was above them.

"Dude, you've got a freaking skylight? Awesome!"

Max nodded. "Yeah. I like to look up at the night sky, when the clouds aren't fucking it up. I think of you when I do that." Chloe was stunned. She'd been doing the same thing most nights- at least, the ones when she wasn't out giving ABPD a runaround, or drinking her night and sanity away- and it had always felt like someone was talking back. In every monologue she'd had, it seemed that there was someone by her shoulder.

"Max... it's been unreal. Everything that's happened, coming here... finding you by sheer luck in a city area of three million? It's mad."

Max rolled over, to face Chloe who was now lying on her side. "I know. And even if I got to rewrite every day of my life, I wouldn't change anything about today. Not even that asshat who swamped us at the bus stop." With that, Max moved closer to Chloe. Not that there was much of a gap, given Max only had a small single bed that they were sharing. As she did that, Chloe tried second-guessing her.

"You're not trying to make a move on me, are you Maxine?"

"No, but you just ruined the perfect moment for a kiss, Dorkimus Prime." Chloe blushed. Damn, she needed to get herself in check.

"Oh. My bad, I hope you didn't take it-" Her apology was cut short, as Max gave her a brief peck on the lips.

"Now, I don't know about you Chlo, but I'm shattered. Let's get some sleep. And don't you try making an advance on me in my sleep, I have learned some martial arts." Max gave her a wink, as she turned over again to sleep. Chloe hesitated for a moment as Max sighed and closed her eyes, wondering whether wrapping her arms around her would earn her a broken nose. She shrugged and went ahead. Max didn't seem to mind.

The next morning passed in a blur. Max had already been awake for a while, making sure that she'd sorted everything out for Chloe to get home in one piece. They arrived on the platform, a few minutes before the train was due to leave.

"Look, Chloe, I've got something I should tell you before I go. I..." Max hesitated for a moment, wondering whether now was the best time to mention it.

"I... what? What is it?" Chloe, as usual, took no time in suing for details. Max sighed, as her internal conflict decided now was the best time to tell Chloe. Face to face.

"I'm coming back to Arcadia Bay. Not just yet, but soon. Like, next semester soon."

Chloe grabbed Max, squeezing her with an elated squeal. "And you almost forgot to tell me that. Still the same you, I guess." The tannoy ping heralded the arrival of the express to Portland. As Chloe went to leave, Max took a hold of her. Again.

"Dude, I gotta get on the train, unless you want me to surf boxc-" Her reply to Max's action was cut off by another kiss. Not a peck, like the one Max had given her the night before when she'd been a total doofus and jumped to the conclusion that Max was in love with her. This was something else. Chloe hadn't experienced a kiss like this since that night, under a snowfall of ash, all that time ago. Chloe's eyes were once again damp with tears as Max finally released her. As Chloe sat at the window and the doors closed, she saw Max give her one last wave, before turning to head home as the train left.

 _Shit! Her phone number, I totally forgot to get it! Fuck!_ Chloe banged her head against the headrest. She decided to get her phone out to see how many missed calls she had from Joyce, worrying her poor heart in the direction of a coronary, or from step-douche informing her of the manhunt he'd most likely set into motion. She found a piece of paper taped to it. Chloe opened it, perplexed, before instantly recognising that handwriting. A home and a mobile phone number, both with Seattle calling codes. And a note.

 _In case I do something stupid tomorrow and forget totally to give you my number, here they are. Far easier to do this when you're out in lala-land. Can't wait to get back to you._

 _Maxi xo_

Chloe immediately punched the numbers into her phone, before sending her a text.

 _Chloe: Of course you'd think to do this. One thing, no emojis!_

 _P.S: I freaking love you dude._

 _Max: I know. I love you too (I just wasn't man- or would it be woman?- enough to say it earlier). Cya in a couple months __

 _Chloe: No emoji!_

 _Max: 3;)_

Chloe allowed the phone to drop forward, lying on her stomach. _Still my Max.._. She closed her eyes once again. Instead of nightmares, for the second time in five years, the first being the previous night, she fell asleep to dreams of where her life was headed. Having Max back in her life seemed to have put all the shattered itty bits back into place.

 **A/N**

 **With any luck, this additionally clears up how Max and Chloe got together sooner in this timeline.** **As much as it's possible Max simply forgot about Chloe, I highly doubt it. Hence this scenario. Also, the reasons behind the convenient disappearance of Jefferson and Nathan shall become clear soon enough.**


	12. One Step Closer

_American Rust._

 _7th October 2013._

 _About an hour after Max started talking._

"...So yes. It got my ass back here sooner. Back where I belong. Home." Max looked at Chloe, still resting her head on Max's shoulder. Throughout the past hour or so she'd spent getting Chloe up to speed on how various things had fell into place, Chloe had been at her usual game of sarcasm. Now, she was feigning sleeping on Max's shoulder. Max slowly lifted up the palm of her opposite hand, taking careful aim, before whacking Chloe on the nose. She jumped, filling the air with curses.

"Dammit Max, those are my kinds of game to play on people!"

Max laughed, as Chloe pushed against her shoulder. "Not any more they aren't." She stood up, stretching, as the pattering of rain on the tin roof eased up. There'd been a brief shower, seeing Chloe move pretty damn quickly across from her original seat- which had became an impromptu shower booth- to Max.

"Anyways... you never explained how you've been here for so long. If _I_ remember rightly, you were only meant to come back here this time last month. So, spill."

Max snickered again, still loving Chloe's obliviousness to everything. She remembered how it had been for her, having completed one of a million time-jumps in the other timeline, but damn it was funny to see Chloe so clueless. "Ah, yes. Well, when you got on the train home that day, I decided I wanted to get back as soon as humanly possible. I'd figured arranging to stay at yours would give the game away-"

Chloe looked surprised. "Hold up: 'give the game away'? Don't tell me Max Caulfield, Patron Saint of Honesty and Innocence, was planning to lie to surprise me?" Max blushed, as she always did in these situations. _At least one of her cuter aspects hasn't changed in this timeline,_ Chloe's little voice in her head told her.

"Y...ep. And boy, did it give you a surprise. Or, as you so eloquently put it, 'almost a motherfucking heart failure'. Or something along those lines." Max smiled, as she remembered the day she'd hidden out in this shack on the first day back in Arcadia Bay, just waiting for Chloe to come here. Oh, how hilarious it was, hearing Chloe shit-talk her for not texting or anything on that day, breaking the routine of the previous five weeks. Sneaking up behind her, before diving onto her with the holler of "BOOYAH!". And Chloe's expression of utter terror, mixed with complete confusion and surprise... Max cracked up, laughing at that _price-_ less expression on her face. Max snapped out of her daydream-like state, before explaining these events to Chloe. Just minus the 'scare the living hell out of Chloe' part, that could result in some unwelcome payback in her sleep tonight.

"Well, I got in touch with Blackwell- or Blackhell, as you always love calling it- and _negotiated_ until Wells agreed to memoving into one of the dorms a week or so after the seniors left, just before the summer vacation, though I only needed to be there one day. After that, I got my shit together and moved in with you. You shoulda seen the look on David's face. Only shame is that the teacher who ran the course I wanted to do, Mr Jefferson, went on sick leave for stress halfway through June. It's funny, the local rich-prick Nathan hasn't been seen either."

Chloe decided to have a little fun with Max, regarding this last statement, as she raised an eyebrow. "Oh... I see how it is. Maxi came back here for that asshat Jefferson, and not for her best friend in all the world," she uttered, in a mock-offended tone, as she clutched her heart. "I think my heart might break from being cheated."

Unlike what Chloe was expecting- namely, for Max to act startled and deny and apologise profusely- she got a totally different response. A shove to the back of the shoulder. "Oh course I didn't come back here for _that_ , you dork... it was for you. The course was just window-dressing, really. Hell, forget that I already committed myself to you when you dragged your ass all the way up to Seattle to find me?"

Chloe beamed once more. This Max was far more fun than any she'd seen in the other timelines. God, she must be having hella good-bad influence on her. "Anyway, how'd you manage to convince that drunken ass Wells to let you come here sooner? You're mot exactly a senator where words are concerned."

Max have her that smile she did before a cynical comment. "Or bullshit, for that matter. But, as it turns out, having a state-funded scholarship behind you is hella incentive. I've never seen someone be such a kiss-ass. Other than you." Chloe laughed once more, as she ruffled Max's hair coaxing another squeak out of her. Max gave her a jab to the ribs, provoking a jump and a suprised yelp as Max got her payback.

"So, shall we head home, or drop by to get some grub from your mom at the diner? I'm starving!"

Chloe stood up, stretching. "That sounds like hella good to me! Who's driving?"

As Chloe sat idly, one hand on the wheel and the other supporting her head as she leaned in the door, as usual, something struck her. Max had mentioned Jefferson _AND_ Nathan hadn't been seen since June. That was a whole four months. Where the hell- of course. The Dark Room. But then again, did that exist in this timeline? Max hadn't made any reference to the place. That said, Rachel never went missing this time around. But _something_ had to click.

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

Chloe paused a moment, weighing up how best to go about finding out what Max remembered. Without accidentally alienating her, as Chloe was oh-so-good at doing. "Do you remember a timeline where Rachel had been missing since about April, and we tried investigating?"

Max scoffed. "Of course. We found her body in the junkyard, murdered." Chloe winced, as the shattered splinters of _that_ timeline treated her to a ringside seat. She knew exactly who had put her there. Max looked puzzled, as though she knew Chloe was getting at something more. "Why?"

"Did we ever find out who did it?" Max looked even more confused, before turning her eyes to look upward, scrutinizing every memory of every timeline for that one scrap of information. At last, she sighed.

"Huh. I can't, actually."

Chloe's expression was one of almost amusement initally, that she finally knew something Max didn't in the timelines. That soon dissolved into almost terror. If she didn't remember that Jeffershit was the one who murdered Rachel in that timeline, what else was there that didn't match up in this timeline? What if she couldn't remember because _she_ was to be his next victim? What if... shitballs, this timelines stuff was a headache. Or a hangover. Still, more questions poured into her head. Should she tell Max? How the hell would she react to finding out the one man she'd ever idolised was a psychopath and probably responsible for a dozen murders, if not more? She _would_ believe Chloe, wouldn't she?

"Chlo, eyes on the road!" Max yelped, as the truck crossed from their side to run head-on against an 18-wheeler coming the other way. Its driver had no real options, swerving would likely jackknife him and the brakes would be useless, so he was powerless other than to blast the horn and pray. Chloe shrieked as the jolted the wheel back the other way. The tyres squealed under the strain as the truck swerved back, missing the oncoming truck by inches, the air wave from its passing punching through the window and startling Chloe further.

"The fuck was that? You trying to get us to see William sooner?" Max winced, as she realised just how many nerves she was likely to have struck, but there was something _massively_ up with Chloe. Even the most stoned people in the world drive better than that- just ask half of her classmates at Blackwell. And given Chloe had been clean for months... this was nothing short of totally freaky.

Chloe panted slowly, as her heart came back down from doing a 70-to-160 faster than a dragster. _Fuck. So much for figuring out how best to put this. Yipee-ki-yay._ She pulled the truck over in the nearest layby, before knocking the engine off, removing the key and throwing it onto the dash. She took a deep breath, and wiped her hands, damp with more sweat than she could believe, across her face.

"It's... It's regarding Jefferson. Something from the other timeline."

"What, exactly?"

"He... he's a psychopath. In the first timeline, where we went out to find Rachel, we ended up discovering it was _him_ and not Nathan that was actually responsible. He'd twisted Nathan to do his bidding- whuch didn't help matters for me- he killed Rachel and maybe a dozen girls just like her, Nathan... even me."

Max's eyes bulged as she blinked in utter disbelief. "You cannot be fucking serious."

Chloe nodded, sullenly. " 'Fraid I am. It's hella fucked up, I know, but it's true."

"But... I can't remember any of that. Maybe in this timeline he isn't like that? You know, anything's possible, given how messed up the timelines are."

Chloe shook her head. "No... when we broke into the Dark Room, his secret fucking lair, we found files. Some of which look to be from before we were even born. Once a psycho and a creep, always a psycho and a creep."

Max slumped back in her seat, horrified. "I'm not even about to question it. So much crazy shit has happened. I just don't... shit."

"What is it?"

Max looked Chloe in the eye, fear written across her body. "If I can't remember those parts of the timeline... what if it's because he's going to come after me?"

Chloe looked equally scared. She'd spent what felt like a fucking eternity trying to put things into an order that let her be with her one-and-only again. And now, it looked like that _asshole_ Jefferson was about to come and fuck that up.

"Not on my watch, Max. That fucker has got to get through _me_ first. And I'm not about to let anything happen to you, you hear me? I've had to watch you save my sorry ass from the third person a thousand times, so it's about damn time I repaid the favor." Max settled a little. She trusted Chloe with hella stuff- hell, she'd even started using Chloe's trademark word- and she'd managed to avoid screwing the timeline over in her pursuit to put everything right.

After a short while coming to terms with the possibility, Chloe started the truck back up, and pulled onto the road again. "Well, I suppose it's for that prick to know and for us to find out. Let's go eat anyway, you know I can't think straight on empty."

 _Two Whales Diner._

 _Several cups of coffee, a plate or two of food and some time later..._

"So...how the hell are we...supposed to be ready...if we don't know where...he'll be?" Max quizzed Chloe, between gulps of coffee. Sure, they had a good idea of what they were facing, but this time the plan was... a little hazier. Chloe had suggested going straight up to Blackwell and confronting the duo. Max knew better than that: the roles were reversed from the lighthouse earlier, as Max reeled from a sudden migrane, as events that hadn't yet taken place, even in another timeline, thundered through her skull: a Vortex Party, on Thursday. That was still going ahead in this timeline, but the events she recalled were those of another.

The pair had gone into the party to hunt Nathan down, believing him responsible for Rachel's early demise. He was nowhere to be found, but a text message had soon shown them his location. The junkyard, 'removing the evidence', as he had put it. Except... It hadn't been Nathan. It had been Jefferson- who'd already murdered Nathan for his failings- and proceeded to put a bullet in Chloe's forehead as he abducted Max.

Not this time. Max was still missing a lot of the pieces, but Chloe had a crystal-clear view of the jigsaw. She knew exactly how she and Max had spent Wednesday, tracking all of David's files. She knew where to strike, and how. The question was when to do it. And that question was also too easy to answer.

"I've got an idea. We know Jefferson will be at the party on Thursday. And I'm willing to bet Nathan won't be."

"Why not?"

"Max... it wouldn't surprise me _at all_ if he has already whacked Prescott. Again."

"Oh. Right, I forgot about that..." Max averted Chloe's gaze for a moment. Chloe took her hand, guessing at Max's guilt.

"Look at me. There's nothing you coulda done to help him. Last time, by the time we- you- knew he was dead, I'd been blown away and that asshole had you at his leisure. Besides, this time Nathan's been missing for months. _Before_ you even got back here. Trust me, don't make every damn death in this town your fault, okay? It'll drive you nuts." Chloe gave her a reassuring smile.

Max seemed a little more at ease after that. Chloe gave a sigh of relief inside. Nothing hurt her mmore than seeing Max blame herself for things that weren't her fault and that she could never have foreseen in a billion years, let alone prevented. "So, you were saying?"

"Oh. Of course, erm, you're probably going to hate my plan a little. It involves Vic'."

Max cocked her head a touch, with a sarcastic smile. "Oh, would I now?"

Chloe gulped. So... Max was now sarcastic, cynical _and_ a little bit psycho. What the hell had she missed?

"Yeah. We'll still have to go to the party, as the asshole will be there. I can feel it. You find Victoria, warn her about Nathan and the Dark Room. That should make her go to Jefferson."

Max looked a little more unsettled. "Go on."

"Once you do that, we break into the Dark Room. I think I can pick the lock- no, we _could_ use your power, briefly."

Again, Max was a little less certain. "Chloe... you _know_ I don't wanna use them again. Not after-" Chloe covered her mouth with a single finger.

"It's the only way we can get inside the Dark Room without raising his suspicions. Besides, things are different this time. Last time, the storm happened because you rewound to prevent my death, and seeing as how that isn't about to happen, it can't fuck anything up. Anyway, we get in, you rewind to make it so it hasn't been opened, we lie in wait."

Max nodded slowly, as this lunacy absorbed into her mind. "Okay. So, what the hell do we do between now and then? And how do we make sure it goes in our favour?"

Chloe wrapped her arm around Max, pulling her a little closer. "That's why I'm telling you all the plan right now. Now, we have three whole days to get everything in place to nail him. So, let's get our asses moving and start nailing his casket lid down!"

 **A/N**

 **So, this seems like a prelude to the endgame. It is. Kinda. It's the precursor to the end of Jefferson in this timeline, but not the end of the story. There's still some major things to play out.** **One of which may fry a good few braincells for people.**


	13. Ready Up

_9th October 2013_.

 _The Price Household_.

The day before had been a blur to both Max and Chloe. Despite the importance of what was to happen the next evening, the previous day had consisted of very little at all. Today, however, was different. Max woke up to find Chloe had already gotten dressed. It was weird for Chloe to be up before her, never mind that she was busy scribbling away on a note.

"Whatcha scrawling onto that note? There's limp-dick morons in Seattle who can write better by drifting."

Chloe slammed a hand down on top of one of Max's. "Good morning as well, dorkmaster. Nope, this is all part of the master plan."

Max gave her another quizzical stare. "You sound like some kinda evil genius. Or supervillain. Hell, both."

Chloe giggled at the thought. "Nope, not enough secret lairs. Or elaborate traps. Or sharks with frickin' laser beams on their heads." With that, she clapped her hands together, rubbing them as she gave an evil laugh. "Muahahahahaha! I'm gonna rule the world!"

Chloe finished scribbling the note, before dropping the pen onto the table and standing up. "C'mon, let's blow this joint. We got stuff to do." As Chloe passed her, grabbing her keys, Max caught a glimpse of the note properly.

 _David,_

 _I know we don't see eye to eye usually, but there's something you need to do for me. Seriously. I know about your files in the garage. Don't ask how. You're perfectly right with what you've got, other than missing one piece of the puzzle: Nathan Prescott. Trust me, this shit is far more complicated and connected than you or I really understand._

 _Anyway, I need you to do one thing: When I text you tomorrow night, get your ass up to the abandoned barn as fast as humanly possible. Bring the cavalry- ugh, I hate that phrase, but you know what I mean- and make sure you're ready for whatever is there, and packing heat would be a very fucking good idea. I don't know what'll be there, but we'll sure as hell find out._

 _Don't screw this up,_

 _Chloe._

Max almost considered making a jump back in time seeing this. Not quite, but almost. David and Chloe were like Tom and Jerry, except they never got along. And yet Chloe had written THAT? Damn, this reality was messing with her head. She, too, grabbed a bacon sandwich from the plate on the way out, catching up with Chloe whom had already headed outside to start the truck. As she passed the doorway of the kitchen, Joyce called on her.

"Are you girls going out again? You two always seem to be either out of the house or up to no good. But, I guess it's nice seeing Chloe this happy again." Max stopped, backing up and facing Joyce. Best to answer her now, rather than blow her off and face the music later.

"Yeah, I still can't imagine how the past five years have , I better go, we've got stuff to do."

Joyce raised an eyebrow. "You know that I can see right through you, Max. Please, just tell me that you're not out getting yourselves into trouble."

Max shifted uncomfortably. How was she supposed to go about answering this one? 'No, everything's alright because we're hunting down a serial abductor and killer.'Yeah. Like she was about to say that. "Honestly. We're just enjoying spending time together again. It's good to be back, y'know?"

Joyce relented. It wasn't the conclusive answer she was looking for, but it was enough. "Alright. You two go have fun. Just... Just watch yourselves, okay?"

"Sure, Joyce. See ya later."

Joyce nodded, as a horn blared from outside. "Sounds like your dear Captain is getting impatient."

"Yeah." With a smile, Max turned and headed out the door, as Joyce's expression returned to a somewhat concerned frown. She knew something didn't seem right about either of them. What that something was? Well, that was an entirely different matter.

Max clambered into the truck- still being revved irritably- and slammed the ill-fitting door shut in its frame as Chloe lurched it off the drive. "Dude, what took you so damn long? Time is life, remember?" Chloe grimaced, as she realised how terrible a phrase she'd made in relation to both of them. Max smirked, knowing that expression all too well.

"Well, you're still as hopeless as ever with words. Good to know being thrown through a bazillion timelines hasn't affected that at all." Chloe jabbed her in the rib as she floored the gas and made off down the road. The same song she'd heard earlier in the week, the first thing she'd properly heard on her return to the living realm, came back over the radio. That fucking ace song she'd figured had to be Firewalk's doing. Again, she began singing along as that awesome intro riff finished. Max shot her a quizzical look.

"I coulda sworn PissHead were more your jam?"

Chloe gave her a knowing smile. "Skip and company aren't bad, but Firewalk are still the shit. We're definitely seeing them if they ever come this way again."

"Yeeeah. Maybe not. Mosh pits still aren't my thing."

Chloe tipped her head back as she drove, and gave a hearty laugh. "Still my Caulfield indeed." She settled back into her normal posture behind the wheel, one elbow on the door, head supported by its hand, with the other on the wheel. The truck sailed past the turning for the junkyard initially, as Max spun her head to look.

"Chloe, the junkyard is thataway."

Chloe shrugged. "So?"

Max narrowed her eyes as she tried to fathom out what her chauffeur was playing at. "Where exactly are we going, then?"

"Uh... it's somewhere I seem to remember for some weird as shit reason. I think I found it a few years ago, some kinda old bunker or something. The kinda thing my Step-Führer would have a wet dream over."

Max laughed, as the thought of that note came back into her mind once again. It still made absolutely no sense. This comment only served to prove it, raising even more questions in her mind. How the hell could Chloe be this openly intolerant of someone like him, and at the same time write something like that and, in doing so, show an open level of trust toward him all of a sudden? Better yet, what the hell were the missing details, the gaps in her memories all across time?

Chloe jumped on the brakes and slewed the truck down a narrow track, through a gap in the dense treeline. "This is our turn, though." The track looked like it hadn't been maintained or even travelled along since around 1980-something. At last, the narrowed-in trees shielding the area from view opened out slightly to create a small grassy clearing, only big enough to turn a jeep or similar around in. At one end, a small doorway of sorts was visible in the side of a small rockface. Chloe turned the truck alongside the doorway, pulling to a stop and jumping out. Max sat for a moment, staring at this odd door. She jumped as Chloe interjected her view.

"C'mon, hippie. We're going shopping." Chloe pulled the door open, before grabbing Max by the arm and pulling her out of the cab, snapping her out of the stupor. The pair walked up to the door, far larger than it had appeared earlier. Max was already on edge. Something in her subconscious didn't like the whole idea of something like this. She didn't have the slightest clue why, but for some reason her mind was screaming at her to run the other way. Chloe ferreted about the overgrown entrance for a few moments, cursing all the while, before standing up triumphant with a piece of metal in her hand.

"This time," she laughed, "I have got a key. Rather than a boot." Clearing away some more of the foliage on the slab of rusted metal that stood out against the jagged rock, revealing a small slot in it. Chloe forced the piece of metal in her hand into the slot, turning it with a series of metallic grinding and clicking noises. Eventually, the rusted and relict guardian of whatever lay behind gave up its vigil, the locks releasing with a deep clunk. Chloe caught a hold of the small railing on one edge of the door, pulling it with all her might until the door flew open without warning. Chloe sprawled backward onto the floor, somewhat dazed after a tap to the back of the head. As she lay groaning on the floor staring up through the thin branches, Max stood over her, blocking the view.

"Anyone else would think we're married, the amount of time you spend on your back." She extended a hand to Chloe, as she finished groaning and tried sitting up. She knocked Max's hand aside and punched her in the thigh, releasing a surprised yelp from Max.

"Fuck you. And you already broke the first rule of the old-school rulebook if we're gonna talk that kinda dirty."

"The hell are you talking about, Chlo?"

Chloe laughed as she pulled her legs toward herself, before squatting onto her heels and hopping back up. "The old handbook says you're meant to get married BEFORE you get it on with each other." Max laughed, as she returned the punch.

"Now then, Maxi, I hope you aren't scared of bunkers." Max gulped, as her muscles decided to freeze up. She still had no idea in hell as to why tthis was happening. She felt fine otherwise, but for some stupid reason the entirety of her subconscious had shut her out of her own movement. The feeling vanished as Chloe wrapped her hand around Max's and squeezed. "C'mon, Max." Chloe gazed into Max's eyes once again, boring straight into her spirit and releasing it from the confines of her mind. "Trust me. Nothing bad's down here. Unless you count the odd rat as a bad thing." Max nodded, as Chloe led her through the darkened entrance to the cavernous space inside. A stairwell, adorned with long-defunct lightbulbs, led as far down as the eye could see. That being the whole of ten feet before they were enveloped by darkness.

Chloe picked up a small torch from a ledge by the door, clicking a button on one end. The light pierced the darkness, revealing another door a short way down.

"If there's one thing my step-ass managed to teach me, it's that a Maglite sure as shit beats using a lighter somewhere like this." The pair's footsteps echoed off of the enclosed concrete and rock as they descended. The lower door was unlocked, but rusty. Chloe put her shoulder against it, forcing the antiquated metal aside. A small switch was present on one side of the wall, which she promptly flicked. A whirring and buzzing started up off to the left precluding a one-cylinder engine, and the smell of gasoline fumes permeated the air for a few seconds, before a series of spot-lamps blinked into life, illuminating the cavern.

It was massive. Max was hopeless with gauging things by eye for the most part, but the room had to had been at least fifty feet square, and maybe eight or nine feet from floor to ceiling. Neatly arranged in a set of uniform rows were iron storage racks, some looking a little more rusted than others. They contained all kinds of things: tinned food; water; clothing; guns; ammo; fucking explosives. It looked like someone had either been preparing to kick off World War Three from Arcadia Bay, or that they were even more paranoid than Dickhead David. Right now, Max would bet either way, if she had any money to do it.

"As far as I know, this place sprung up in the 80s. It was an old miner's entrance, so watch out for the other tunnels. Anyway, it sprung up in the 80s as somehow the Russians managed to sneak all this shit in here."

Max gave a low whistle. "Start World War Three from within the States itself, huh?"

"Exactly. And now... it's our toybox!" With that, Chloe moved across to one side of the room, while Max peered down part of the still-standing shaft. Chloe wasn't wrong about the state of it: the pine beams looked like they should've given way decades ago.

"Dude, really? You can take pictures later, we got us a creep to catch!" Max jolted slightly, startled by Chloe, who had returned with a black holdall over her shoulder.

"We got what we came for. You gonna carry any of this, or am I being the mule?"

Max giggled. "Do you really want an answer to that?"

"On second thought, probably not. Get the light on the way out, wouldya?"

With that, the pair exited the confines of the Prepper's Paradise, and returned topside. It must've been almost an hour since they headed down. Damn, that had gone fast. Chloe opened the door of the truck, slinging the holdall onto the seat, before clambering in, as Max did the same. Chloe gunned the engine and tore away in the direction of... still not the junkyard? Max still couldn't make sense of quite why Chloe was being so evasive of that place. Pretty soon, her answer as to where their journey ended for now was given. It was up on the hills, where most of the treeline was yet to regrow. In the midst of it, a burned out and wrecked building of some kind.

"I figured on this being the best place today. So many less bad memories."

Max went to reply to this with a 'what bad memories, exactly?'. Before she had a chance, Chloe gave her yet another hug. "I'll explain some other time. Once we nail this fucker for all the hell he's put people through, all the lives he's ruined. Once we..." Chloe stopped, unable to find the right words. "Do this."

Chloe took hold of the holdall zip and pulled, revealing the various things inside. As Chloe turned the bag upside down and emptied its contents at their feet, Max shook her head. "All that shit to go boom, and you treat it like a load of bricks. I can't rewind if my hand is halfway to fucking Japan, you do realise?"

"Damn, really? That power sucks." Chloe laughed once more. Unlike any other time, this was a laugh of knowing exactly how much those powers sucked. Having had her own... experience with such. Chloe produced a pair of handguns from the bag. Sure, she'd brought enough weapons along to put your average action film to shame, but given Chloe's remembering Max as a gun-hating and shy creature, it was perhaps best to start simple. Taking the barrel-end of the gun in her hand, she passed it toward Max. "I remember you being somewhat scared around guns, so..." Max reached out , gripping the weapon with a smirk.

"Really? Chloe, I'm no fucking pus-" Her sentence was cut off with a bang and a shriek. The bullet skimmed the side of Chloe's face as she recoiled away from the weapon, singeing a chunk of hair on its way past. Chloe straightened herself up once again. And she was pissed.

"Finger. Off. The fucking. Trigger."

Max shrugged, as she turned the gun over in her hands. "Huh. No external safety, is there?"

"Obviously fucking not. Remind me to shave the side of your head in your sleep tonight."

Max gulped. "Fuck. So, what are we gonna blast?"

Chloe smirked. "Not me, for a start."

"You're not gonna let me forget about that, are you?"

"Hm... nope. Anyway, there should be some shit lying about the ruins to shoot at."

Chloe took Max by one hand and the small armory of weapons in the holdall in the other, heading across to the shattered and charred remains of the old stage. There was still all kinds of debris everywhere. A few bottles snapped in half, some damaged hanging signs. It could have been a slightly more cooked version of the junkyard. Chloe drew her gun, levelling the sights on a battered old gas bottle lying at the base of a stairwell.

"Chloe?"

"What? Had a change of mind?"

Max turned to her, taking hold of her arms for a moment. "Try not to fucking shoot yourself again. I'd rather only have to make the one rewind tomorrow night, not a few fucking thousand today."

Chloe smiled once again, having seen that moment play out too. "I'll try. Now, watch this!" With that, she unleashed a .45 on the unassuming steel. Surprisingly, rather than just a ping of a ricochet, the canister exploded in cinematic style. Chloe whooped with surprise and amusement. "Hell yeah! Blowing shit up, that's what I'm talking about!"

Max stood, head in one hand, shaking her head. "Does the word subtle mean anything, Chlo?" The container had set fire to what little there was left to burn, engulfing it in a few seconds, and vanishing just as fast. Chloe turned back to Max, spinning the gun around her finger by its trigger guard.

"Admit it: who's the badass?"

Max laughed at this display of macho-ness. "Hella not you."

"Ouch. Your turn. And try not to take any more of my hair off."

Max nodded, before adopting a firing stance and aiming down at the remains of the gas canister. She took a solid breath, levelling the weighty piece of metal, before pulling the trigger. A sharp crack, followed by a dull ping and a ringing out as the bullet deflected upwards, probably toward some poor seagull. Chloe gave her a suspicious glance.

"You've done this before, haven't you?"

Max smiled, unloading and clearing the handgun as though she'd been doing it every day for a year. "This isn't the first time Chloe Price, the outlaw of Arcadia Bay, has ever tried to teach me to handle weapons. It's probably the most successful time, though."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Do I wanna know how the other times went?"

Max shrugged again, an awkward, half-embarrassed smile on her face. "Uh... no. Not particularly."

 _Some time, gratuitous swearing, many rounds and broken weapons safety rules later..._

Chloe flung the holdall back into the truck, now considerably lighter. Given Max's handling of the other weapons- sawn-offs, an Uzi, and a rifle of some kind or other- the pair had decided it safest to stick to handguns. "Besides, they're easier to hide." Chloe had reasoned, badly. The more obvious reason was that Max had almost given the truck some new vents for air conditioning when she tried the shotguns. After it had jumped out of her hands and fired off against the passenger door, anyway.

Chloe glanced at the dents visible on the inside of the door as Max swung her door shut. Max caught the line Chloe was looking along, giving her yet another questioning stare. "Yep. Another property damage case to sue me for."

Chloe chortled snickered as she fired up the engine once again and headed back in the direction of home. "Nah, I was thinking of some other kinda punishment."

"Oh, I dread to think. Walking the plank, perhaps?"

"Nah. We'll see tonight."

Max shuddered at the thought. "Oh boy."

The truck hurtled along toward an obscure turning at one side of the road. Chloe jammed the brakes on as a car shot out of the siding. As Chloe was about to give it a blast of horn and foul language, she caught a glimpse of the plates. Her memory put the pieces together. That siding led up to the old Prescott barn that concealed the Dark Room. That car belonged to Jefferson.

"Max, act cool."

"Why?"

Chloe gestured as discreetly as possible at the car in front. "See the car ahead of us, being driven by an asshat?"

"Uh-huh?"

Chloe grimaced as she recalled all the various deaths she and Max and so many others had incurred in some of the timelines. "It's him. Act cool, because I wanna try and tail him. See where the fucker goes."

Max shifted uneasily in her seat. "Chlo, I don't like this. It's too... convenient."

"How so?"

Max sat for a moment, figuring out how best to word it. "The fact he happened to fly out in front of _us._ And that looked like he'd just gone from a standing start. Something doesn't feel right."

"You haven't just seen us get wasted by him and rewound to try and warn me, have you?"

"Nope. I just... I don't know. This feels all kinds of wrong, and not the moral kind. The wrong that you'd feel if you walked into a room and could smell nothing but gasoline. That kinda wrong."

Chloe continued along, following Jefferson, all the while weighing up this possibility. Was it coincidence, or was Max right? The voice of doubt won her over. As much as it just seemed to be random, she had to agree with Max. Something felt off. Jefferson seemed to be driving somewhat too calmly. As though he was anticipating the every move of the pickup behind him. The blinker came on, and Jefferson's car lurched off down a different road. Chloe considered it, for a split second. Again, the sudden turn seemed like setting up for an ambush. That turning only led into a clearing in the forest about a mile up. Chloe carried on toward the town. She took one hand off the wheel, gesturing it upward.

"Well, we just blew a shot at finding out what he's up to. But..." she continued, glancing at Max with a smile, "I agree. That fucker proabably wanted us to do that. Lure us into some kinda trap. The question is, how the fuck did he know?"

Max shook her head slightly. "I have no fucking idea. With everything you say that's happened and everything I can't remember... who knows?"

Chloe shrugged, as the truck rolled back into the outskirts of town. "I guess. That'll make tomorrow hella fun though."

Max rolled her eyes. Of course Chloe would find taking on the most dangerous person to have ever walked the streets of Arcadia Bay _hella fun._ She glanced out of Chloe's side of the truck as she slowed down, immediately figuring out where their next stop lay.

"Read my damn mind, Chlo. I'm totally fucking starving, after all that crazy trying-to-use-a-gun shit."

Chloe laughed, as she parked across several spaces as usual. Lucky the Two Whales didn't have a parking warden, or she'd be up to her ass in parking fines. And that was just in the past month. "Speak for yourself, you weren't the one that the bullets seemed to like targeting. And by the way, what did Joyce want this morning? My money's on that taking you so long to get your ass out the door."

Max sighed a little. "I think... she knows."

"Knows... what?" Chloe asked, gesturing with a rolling of the hand.

"Something. That we're up to something. That we're getting ourselves into some pretty serious shit."

Chloe patted Max on the shoulder as she opened her door. "We're gonna be fine. I'll make damned sure of that."

 **A/N**

 **The Firewalk song referenced earlier is by the real-world band Pretty Vicious, the song being "Blister". They're not the only band that'll be getting referred to, though the next one will also be under a pseudonym. Bonus points for guessing who they are.** **Also, the External Safety gag was inspired by RED 2. A film that I love for many reasons.**

 **Also, Max, Bunkers and subconscious responses. I wonder what that may mean?** **Because of various broken laws of the space-time continuum, Max can remember all the events of the other timelines except those revealing Jefferson as what we know him to be, or those of the Dark Room. Mainly because without Chloe's intervention in this timeline, Max was to be his next- "subject"- and now that the basic events of the timeline have altered... well, do the math.**

 **So, I hope you're looking forward to where this is headed at full speed ahead, although the next chapter starts at the _beginning_ of Thursday, and not directly at the Vortex Party.**


	14. Take The Shot

_The Price Household_

 _10th October 2013_

 _7.32 am_

Chloe stirred into life as the fall sun glinted through the flag over the window, illuminating half her room once again in a hue of dull red and blue. The room still looked like a tactical nuke had hit it. The holdall was still nicely propped in the closet, and obviously David hadn't been in here in the night, as nothing had been disturbed. Chloe had never particularly liked that he did that, or that she went to sleep most nights knowing that was gonna happen. Up until her recent cross-timeline resurrection, she'd thought him something of a perv, a weirdo. Now, not so much: she _did_ , after all, sit with her window open to some degree, and Chloe knew better than most how much of a two-way system using the window as a door was. She'd also noticed he rarely did it now, especially since Max had come in July-ish. Perhaps he felt it wrong to intrude on someone _not_ of his own family, maybe that was somewhat less morally justifiable than doing it to his _own_ family.. Either way, the smell of normalcy im the form of bacon and egg was drifting up the stairs and under the door. Max shifted next to her, stretching and yawning silently, before sitting up, tilting her head back briefly to check the date on the clock. As if she didn't already know.

"Welp. Thursday. You ready for tonight, Captain?"

Chloe smiled, as she felt for a cigarette in the ashtray next to her. Sure, she'd kicked anything more "medicinal" right out the fucking door back in January, Frank's ass right behind it, _but_ she so desperately needed this. Even though it was still easily half a day away from what she knew was coming next, her heart was already doing fucking acrobatics. So much for playing it cool. Max gave her the usual interrogation stare as she drew the lighter from her jacket, hand quivering slightly, bringing the stick between her fingers to flame before taking a drag. Chloe shot her the usual corner-of-her-eye look in return.

"You and I both know how tonight is gonna pan out. Of course I fucking need this right now. This is gonna be the weirdest fucking day we've ever had."

Max smiled, still holding that stare. " _Maybe._ ", Chloe reneged.

"I would say perhaps not. The day you stopped me fucking throwing myself off that cliff, now _that_ was a straight fifteen-point-oh on my weird-as-shit-o-meter."

Chloe laughed, wincing slightly as both the emotional pain of seeing Max that torn up and the _actual_ pain the pair had felt upon contact. ABPD's tasers had _nothing_ on that, and she was a damn fine candidate to compare a taser to it. Max noticed, furling an arm over Chloe's shoulder and pulling her a little closer.

"I know what you're thinking, for once. Remember, we're here. Now. Together. Alive."

Chloe sighed, exhaling a lungful and a half of smoke, before tilting her head back onto Max's arm. "Yeah, but how long before the Universe fucks that up?"

"Never, if I have anything to do with it. Now, are we gonna go eat, or are we gonna waste away up here like vampires?"

Chloe pushed Max's arm off her, letting it land on the bed next to her. "What do you think? I'm starving as it is."

"Munchies?"

Chloe cackled. "Asshat. C'mon, let's get going already. I wanna try and be outta here _before_ we bump into David. I do _not_ wanna have to try and sneak our stuff for later," with a point at the holdall in hiding, "past Mr. Hawk Eye paranoid fucker. Do you?"

"Got me there, Chloe. Last one down drives?"

"You're on. It's not like you can damage my truck any more than you did yesterday."

"Fuck off, it was only a dent!" Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Okay, a shit-ton of dents. But nothing serious!"

A couple of minutes later, the pair were falling over each other to reach the table first, virtually sitting on top of each other on the seat in the race to take the seat first. Joyce raised an eyebrow as she brought through two plates of food. "That's about the fastest I've seen either of you move in weeks. What's the matter, think you're getting rationed from now on or something?" The pair replied to this with a reserved laughter, as only they would to a parent joke.

"Kinda, mom. Just in a hurry, that's all." Max almost choked on her mouthful of scrambled egg, and the look on Joyce's face was something along those lines too. 'Joyce' had been used in place of 'Mom' by Chloe since William had died. Chloe had just definitely said _mom._ Max winced inside. Chloe was right, once again. Fuck, that was bad news. Not that Chloe being right, again, was _necessarily_ a bad thing, but given the discussion they'd just had about the immediate future, and Chloe's scepticism about how long things were going to stay all good-and-rosy... that was a worry. No. Worry would be a complete understatement for that.

"What?" Chloe mumbled through a mouthful of her breakfast, "I've five years of being a total asshole to everyone to make up for. Five years of not seeing past my own fucking nose, thinking the world revolves around me and my problems." She gulped, clearing her mouth and throat. "Why not start trying to put things right today?"

Max had finished her food by this point, and had slung the holdall over her shoulder. Joyce didn't even question what was in there, poor woman was probably still dumbstruck from Chloe's fucking weird 5-year-in-coming apology speech.

Sneaking out the door, she heard the clatter of cutlery on Chloe's plate, and what sounded like a kiss. "Later, mom." With that, Chloe emerged from the kitchen, to a stare of utter confusion from Max. That stare of 'something's just happened that my brain can't fucking understand.'

"What's that look for Max, seen a hipster ghost?"

Max snapped out of the look, wiping out the million-plus things arguing with each other in her head as she opened the door, as Chloe dived on her.

"Hey, easy! My shoulders only just support this holdall, not your ass as well!"

A couple of minutes later, Chloe was gunning the truck down the road in the direction of the junkyard. Max gazed vacantly out of the windshield, as the questions came back. Shutting the door on them hadn't worked, the fucking things had started climbing through the windows and down the chimney. Why was Chloe acting as she had this morning? Had she seen what was going to happen tonight? Were they doomed to die, and that was why Chloe was trying to put things right in her life? Would she be upfront if Max confronted her? The questions tearing about her mind were giving her a small migraine, which was a hell of a shame given the area around them. It'd have made for a perfect place to take photographs. If Max still had her touch with cameras.

As they came along some stretch of the coast, the sun poking above the treeline on their right and everything silhouetted on their left, Chloe slowed down, pulling the truck up in a layby overlooking a stretch of the Bay.

"Hella nice day, ain't it?"

Max lost her composure. She couldn't let this carry on, and she wanted answers. The sooner, the better.

"Okay, Chloe What the hell are you acting like this for?"

Chloe looked surprised, startled, shocked even. "What? What the hell are you talking about, dude?"

"This morning, with Joyce. This. Have you already been into the future on this one?"

Chloe scoffed. "Nope. The hell gave you that idea?"

"The way you've been acting all morning, it's like you're expecting tonight to go the way of the _bathroom_. Is it gonna go that way?"

Chloe let her hands drop from the wheel, remembering the brief agony of that bullet to the chest, and the million or so things that had crossed her mind in that micron before death. "Honestly, Max, I have no idea."

Max sighed, relenting and letting the stress of her thoughts ease off. "Right. So, that's why you've been doing what you did today, and that letter to Dickhead yesterday?"

Chloe rocked her head slightly. "Kinda. The note is because of the bits of timeline I've seen, the bits you seem to be missing, and I'm all short on ideas why that is. We're probably gonna need his help if we wanna dodge wooden boxes tonight. Anyway, this morning... I honestly don't know how tonight is gonna work out. And... if it doesn't go to plan...I...I wanna feel like I...put things right. I...want today...to be the best day of...our lives." Chloe stopped, as she fought back the wave of emotion that had hit her, sniffling slightly as the thought of losing Max or Max . Max shifted across, closing the gap between them and snuggling up to her, looking her in her teared-up eyes.

"It's not gonna be the last day we have. I'm sure as hell not gonna let it be, not after all you did for us. For me. Now, shall we get on with the day?"

Chloe took a deep breath, cancelling out her emotions. "Let's. I think after yesterday, we've done enough on guns. How's your fighting?"

Max smiled. "Hella better than it was. Let's practice here, it's quiet enough."

With that, the pair left the truck in the layby and moved into the picnic area adjacent to it. Chloe took up a fighting stance, facing Max. "Now then, let's see whatcha got."

Max hesitated. "Chloe, I'm not sure this is the best-"

"C'mon, dude! Scared to fight me, or something? Bring it, wimp!" Chloe challenged, with another laugh.

Max shook her head. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn ya."

With that, Max took up a stance, almost like what you see in some of the the films. Left should forward, feet in an almost T-shape, moving toward Chloe. Chloe swung a right hook at Max, who had already seen the punch coming a mile away, without even needing a rewind. She ducked under it, catching Chloe's arm as it sailed harmlessly past by the bicep with one hand and the forearm with another, jerking her arm into a hold behind her. Chloe yelped with surprise.

"Ow! Shitballs, dude, where did you learn that?"

Max chuckled. "Too many action films and way too much spare time. And that's the easiest move I know."

Chloe attempted to break out of the hold, pitching forward and catching Max momentarily off balance. Chloe swung her right arm back, catching Max in the leg and causing her to release. Chloe swung round, trying to wipe Max out with a leg sweep. Again, Max judged it perfectly, hopping back and leaving Chloe in a cloud of dust kicked up. Chloe got back on her feet, charging at Max as the dust settled. Max saw her at the last moment, and in a slight panic took a knee up into Chloe's chest as she drove a fist into the side of her nose. Chloe collapsed to the ground in pain and surprise.

"Fuck! Argh!"

Max gasped in shock. "Shit, shit, shit! I'm so sorry, Chloe! I didn't meant to do that!"

Chloe groaned as she sat up, putting a hand to her nose and finding blood. "Damn, dude. If that's your damage done by _accident,_ then I almost feel sorry for the asshole tonight.

Max outstretched a hand to help Chloe up, as she stopped hyperventilating. "Look, I could, I don't know, rewind it if you want me t-"

Chloe cut her off, grabbing her and arm pulling her onto her lap. "No. Don't you dare rewind this moment."

"Max looked at her, face level with hers. "Why not? Something else to get at me over?"

Chloe shook her head. "No. Proof that my Max can take care of herself. I think we'll cut short the fighting session. I won't be much use tonight if I'm on crutches, ya'know."

Max laughed, as she helped the still-groaning bluenette to her feet. "Where to now?"

"Home. I hella need a drink." Chloe sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose comically. "And we _both_ hella need showers."

 _The Price Household_

 _1.15 pm_

Max had opted to take the first shower, while Chloe had gone in search of some form of alcohol to suppress the buzzing pain left in place of Max's fist on the side of her nose. Joyce had already gone to work, and David- as usual- was already back up at BlackHell. Max hadn't been there for a few weeks, as they were still trying to put together some form of curriculum seeing as how they were currently lacking a photography teacher. That, and the school was being scrutinised by Oregon Ed. No need to create more trouble for the resident shit-faced moron in charge there. As Chloe continued searching everywhere for something more powerful than wine, she noticed the note she'd written the previous day, sitting on David's laptop. _He obviously got the message then. But, will he trust me?_ Chloe frowned at the lack of anything decent to drink, before heading up to the bathroom.

"Dude, how long do you wanna spend in the shower? We got pricks to hunt!"

Max glanced around the shower screen, covering herself as best she could. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Could you pass me something to put on, first?" She turned back to continue showering, as Chloe spotted something on the floor. A smug, cheeky grin appeared on her face. _You didn't say what you wanted to put on._

Max jumped as Chloe cleared her throat. She turned around, to find Chloe stood by the tub. With a pair of slippers in her hand, and a nonchalant expression on her face. Max laughed at the notion.

"Really?"

Chloe smiled, devilishly, nodding. Before she could react, Max grabbed her arms and dragged her into the shower fully clothed. Chloe growled with frustration.

"Dude, what the fuck? I'm gonna have to dry these now!"

Max shrugged, an equally devilish smile on her face. She took Chloe by the hips, pulling her closer and putting her hands under Chloe's vest. Chloe blushed, feeling a warm sensation spread throughout her. With a frantic whisper as she fought the sensations, Chloe questioned Max. "Dude, the fuck are you-"

Max cut her off with a kiss. "It's like you said earlier, Chloe," she said, softly, as she begun to remove her top, "If tonight does go wrong, I wanna make this the best day of our lives too."

The penny finally dropped in Chloe's head. "Wait, are you making-"

"I think I've already taking a giant leap over the boundary of _'making a move on you'_ Chloe. Now, are we gonna do this, or are you gonna be a total buzzkill?"

Chloe complied at last, flipping her top over her head and unfastening her jeans, before returning Max's actions, moving her hands across Max's smooth skin, provoking a gasp which turned to a whimper the closer those hands came to her groin. Max drove a hand down towards the same area of Chloe's body, provoking an equally curt whimper followed by a gentle moan.

"I would say...we'd need to get...cleaned up...after this," Chloe whispered in Max's ear between panted breaths, as she turned to shut off the shower, "but I'd...say...we've already...done that."

Max drove an elbow into her ribs as she joined Chloe in chuckling at that horribly bad joke. "Dork."

She shut the shower off, before moving to the other end of the bath and grabbing two towels, as Chloe stripped off her now totally soaked jeans and boots, leaving just her underwear and bra on. Max passed her a towel. Chloe took one glance at it, recognising it immediately.

"Of course you'd throw this towel my way."

Max smiled, before wrapping the plain towel around herself. "Of course. Now, I'm already freezing my ass off." With a sarcastic wink, she turned on her heel and headed for Chloe's bedroom. Chloe stood for a few moments alone in the bathroom, trying to make sense of exactly what in the name of all that was holy had just happened. Sure, she'd wanted that to happen between her and Max since forever, but she'd never in a million years have imagined _Max_ as kicking it off. It was weirdly satisfying: Max had never officially came out. Suffice to say, _that_ was an infinitely better coming-out than Chloe's had been. Max came back across the doorway, now fully dressed. She waved a hand up and down, snapping Chloe out of her daydream-like thought process.

"Are you gonna get dressed, or do you wanna go to the party dressed like that?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Don't tempt me." She decided to put on her still-damp clothes, preferring them over her other clothes. They'd dry, anyway.

 _Blackwell Academy._

 _8.31 pm_

Chloe stood by the passenger door of the truck, drumming her fingers against the door. Max seemed to be taking hella long to do this. Maybe she'd been ambushed by Warren? She took another long drag on her cigarette, trying to compose her thoughts between the pounding bass beats radiating from the pool. Finally, a skittish figure emerged once again. Chloe pumped a fist in the air, seeing the same response in return.

"Did she buy it?"

Max nodded. "Oh hell yes. Let's fucking go, we need to ditch the truck somewhere away from the barn."

With that, she pinged the door open as Chloe tried a 70s cop show- style slide across the hood, ending in a faceful of asphalt. Max kicked her legs up and down as she clutched her chest with hysteria, as Chloe sheepishly got into the driver's seat.

"You better hadn't have got that on video."

Max smirked.

"Or rewound to get a video. Let's do this."

A short few minutes later, the truck careened into a narrow parking space, gouging the paint of both cars in the bays aside it and bumping the barrier. As the pair scrambled out of the windows, Chloe muttered one phrase.

"Like a glove."

Max smiled, as she jumped into the bed of the truck and over the tailgate. Chloe threw her a handgun, which she slipped into her waistband, followed by the spare magazine.

"Try not to fire that off by accident."

Max laughed as she cut across the road, and onto the edge of the track, kneeling and looking out as she waited for Chloe. After what felt like an eternity, the other dark figure bolted across the tarmac, joining her.

"Okay, let's go!" She spoke, in a loud-yet-quiet tone. The track was only a quarter of a mile or so in length, giving the pair plenty of time when they reached the other end. Chloe led Max to the missing piece of wood on one side covered over by tin sheeting, an entrance Max had uncovered in timelines erased. She found the trapdoor covered by straw easily enough. Before going any further and while her phone signal was still up, Chloe hit send in the text she'd quickly composed before darting across the main road.

 _To: Step-ass_

 _It's time. As soon as Jefferson leaves Blackwell Campus, get yourself up to the barn. Make sure the cops are right behind you. Door code should be 452._ _Good luck._

The phone went back into her pocket as she raised her pistol and turned to Max.

"Max,kneel down and cover your eyes?"

"Why?"

Chloe gave her a knowing look. "Last time, you set up a whole physics-y masterpiece to break the lock. I'm gonna have to do it a little quicker, just be ready to rewind."

Max nodded, taking cover. Chloe took aim, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. With a crack of gunfire and the ping of a metal-on-metal ricochet, the padlock fractured, bouncing an inch or so over to one side. Chloe punched her pistol skyward as she got hold of the trapdoor.

"Fuck yes! Give me a hand, quickly!" Max got hold of the corner of the door, ans the pair flipped it up and over. After they had hopped down onto the concrete stairs, Max hit her rewind, holding onto Chloe in the hope it would keep her in the same timeframe as Max. It worked. Instead of her position being rewound to the other side of the locked trapdoor, Chloe shuddered back into life. Pushing a hand against the now-sealed trapdoor, it didn't budge.

"Bingo. Now, let's make ourselves at home and wait for Mr motherfucker to show himself."

Chloe slipped across to the keypad sealing the door.

 _Now, what was that code? 52- no, 452._

Punching the code in, the door complied with a green light and a metal clunk. Chloe got a hold of its handle, pulling the door open to reveal the bunker. Just as it had been. Chloe brought her pistol up, scanning every inch of the room as she entered, closely followed by Max. They rounded the plastic curtain, separating the entrance from the Dark Room itself, and Max caught a glimpse for the first time in this timeline of the chair. She felt an odd sensation in the back of her head. Panicking, she glanced around, but she couldn't see Chloe any more. She heard Chloe's voice scream out for her.

"Max? Max!"

 _The scene changed. She wasn't standing up in the centre of the room any more. She was lying on the floor by that chair, wrists and ankles tied with duct tape. She was groggy, feeling like she had ten hangovers all at once._ A figure stood over her, wearing black trousers and a white shirt, with a camera.

 _"Oh, Max! You fucked up my shot! But please don't worry, we have all the time in the world. For now. I knew you were special the second I saw your first "selfie". Yes, I still hate that word. But I love the purity of your own image. Not like Rachel, who was always looking in the wrong places. Poor Rachel. Wait... Let me try this angle."_

 _Another change of scene, faster this time. The junkyard, that one Chloe hated visiting now. It was dark, and... she remembered a sting in the back of her neck, collapsing to the floor in time to see Chloe turn. A single shot fired, piercing the centre of Chloe's forehead. She fell back onto a piece of tarpaulin, partially buried. Wait, that was Rachel! They'd found her there. The look on Chloe's face as she fell, that blank expression. Not fear, not confusion, nothing. And the face that was illuminated, the last thing she remembered seeing._

 _Jefferson. That motherfucker. He killed Chloe._

 _Driving his car, after David had saved her. The voicemail from Nathan._

 _"Max... it's Nathan. I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt Kate, or Rachel, or... I didn't want to hurt anybody. Everybody... used me! Mr. Jefferson is coming for me now. All this shit will be over soon. Watch out, Max... He wants to hurt you next. Sorry."_

 _Back in this place, in that chair, immobile. Next to her, Victoria. On the floor. Bound, as she had been._

 _"No... I don't know... Wait... You warned me. You warned me about Nathan. Then I went to Jefferson for help, and he was acting so weird... That's the last thing I remember. And I can't move my hands! Help me, Max! Please, I'm sorry for everything!"_

Chloe swore under her breath as she caught Max mid-fall.

"Fuck. Of course that'd bring her memory back." Looking around the room for somewhere sensible to put her that was out of view, only one place came to mind. That restraining chair. Shit. Chloe shrugged as she lifted Max over to it, lowering her down gently.

"You'll hate me for thus when you wake up, Maxi, but it's the best I got."

As she stood up again, she heard a clunk behind her. The door had just been unlocked, and of course their prey would be early. Of all the fucking possibilities.

 _Fuck fuck fuck! Max, please fucking wake up!_

Chloe snapped her gun up, bracing herself, ready. The figure came round the corner, a comatose, pixie-like figure under one arm and a gun in his hand, chuckling to himself.

"Drop the gun and the girl, asshole."

Jefferson looked up, startled.

"Wh- How the fuck did you get in here?!"

"You heard me, the gun and the girl. Drop them. Or I drop you."

Jefferson chuckled, releasing Victoria and allowing her form to slump onto the floor. He seemed eerily unnerved. It was fucking weird. They hadn't done any of the investigative work they had originally, no suspicion aroused. Somehow, thus fucker knew.

"I had a feeling someone had a bead on me. I only knew of the one, your dear stepdad. Such a shame. He was close, but he was missing the pieces of the jigsaw he so badly needed. Until you gave him them, of course."

"How the fuck do you know about that?"

Jefferson laughed, more maniacally than before. "It's amazing what you learn when you can pick a lock. Listening to you and Max this afternoon was something surreal, I must admit. It never occurred to me that Max might not have any romantic attraction to the opposite sex, only to her own."

Chloe snarled, almost canine. _You sick motherfucker._

Chloe's lapse of focus had been for a split second, but it was enough. Jefferson brought his pistol up, discharging a round. It clipped Chloe in shoulder of the arm she was holding her gun in. It wasn't a serious hit, but the force of it caused her to fall backward onto the floor. Her head hit the floor, stunning her somewhat. Jefferson levelled the pistol again, ready to finish off the now-helpless Chloe. All the while, he'd neglected to notice the unconscious figure still slumped in the chair.

Max stirred, finally regaining normal feeling in her body. Through a slit of vision as her eyes opened slightly, she saw Chloe hit and fall. Her blood boiled, mixed with the horror of seeing Chloe hurt. Jefferson advanced, ready to finish her off. Max's eyes lit up slightly as she felt the cold steel of the handgun, still tucked into her waistband, against her back. Another of this fucker's things said to her rang through her ears.

 _Remember my number one rule. Always... take... the shot."_

Max lifted her hand, freezing time in place as she drew her handgun, walking- with some difficulty- to stand over Chloe, facing Jefferson. She drew raised her gun, bringing it level with his face, and finally released time. The emotion on Jefferson's face was almost indescribable.

"Capture this, asshole."

Before he had a chance to react with even a twitch of a muscle in his face, Max squeezed the trigger. The bullet seemed to move in slow motion, powering through his face and shattering his right eye socket, before exploding from the back of his head in a shower of bone and brain. His body spasmed, falling backward onto the dim, pristine white floor, remaining motionless as a pool of red overwrote the colourless background. The expression on the remainder of his face was frozen in time. Shock, horror, confusion, an inability to understand what had just happened. He hadn't even seen the one girl of Blackwell, the one that he had so desperately desired to capture in this way, in the room. An instant later, she was standing guardian over her fallen friend, an expression of fury on her face and both vengeance and justice on her mind. Fitting, indeed, that hers was the last face he would ever see.

Max's arm dropped to her side, as she cast the gun onto the couch and fell to Chloe's side. She still had her eyes closed, and didn't seem to be breathing heavily at all. There was blood pooling out slightly from behind her shoulder, which looked to have taken a hell of a hit. Max's blood ran cold. There was no way she'd come all this fucking way, just to let Chloe die here. Not with a death like this. See shook her frantically, trying for a response of any kind, but to no avail.

"Chloe, don't you fucking dare die on me! Not after everything we've had to do, not after all the moments we've shared. Dammit, you know I love you and I'll fucking come after you in the afterlife if I have to! Please, wake up!"

Still, Chloe lay, unmoving. Max lay down on her still, slightly cooled form, and kissed her. Far better than any kiss she'd ever given or received in her life. Chloe stirred slightly, her legs shifting against Max's

"Now that... that was a kiss that could bring anyone back from the dead." Chloe chuckled, as Max punched her in the shoulder that hadn't been shot.

"Dammit, Chloe! Don't fucking do that to me!"

Chloe laughed and tried to sit up, finding her damaged arm couldn't support weight, and fell back onto the floor. Max put her arms behind Chloe, getting blood on her in the process, and sat her up as a number of footsteps could be heard in the hall leading to the door.

Chloe smirked, as she lifted another cigarette out of her pocket. "Well, here comes the cavalry. Right on fucking time."

 **A/N**

 **So, there we have it. The end of Jefferson in this timeline, but not the end of the story, oh no. The shower scene may have been a little short for some of you, but I'm not especially comfortable writing romantic or sexual elements, so it's what I could do. Also, I've decided to bin the Preface notes. Like I said, that was an experiment and it failed, so expect a lot of update notifications as I re-upload earlier chapters with new notes.**

 **Also, for some more clarity, the large amount of italics prior to the confrontation was from Max's point of view, kind of a Total Recall. The idea being snippets of memory from that timeline entering her head, at an increasingly rapid rate. Similar to the penultimate scene of Resident Evil: Apocalypse, when Alice is resurrected and quickly regains her memory.**

 **Hope this chapter wqas worth a bit of a wait, I'll start writing the next one as and when I get time. Even though it's February half-term here in Blighty, I'm being treated as though lie-ins, using my phone to type on (via the app) and so on are now criminal offences. Ah yay.**


	15. Hallelujah

_Arcadia Bay Medical Centre_

 _11th October 2013_

 _11.18 am_

Max sat impatiently in the hallway outside Chloe's room, as she had done all night, tapping on her leg. The doctors had said Chloe was going to be fine, but the look last night on David's face said otherwise. Could it have been that David was just overreacting to seeing his step-daughter get a bullet in the shoulder? Or was it that he'd seen such seemingly simple injuries fell men and women far tougher than Chloe? Max huffed quietly, thinking over that last point.

 _Tougher than Chloe Price? The hell could be tougher than her?_ _The Devil, maybe?_ She suppressed a slight giggle at the image in her head. _Nah, Chloe would be the girl who made the Devil himself her personal bitch._

After what felt like an eternity, a nurse emerged from her room. Max was straight onto her feet, suing for information. The nurse chuckled slightly, door handle in one hand.

"Yes, Maxine, you can see her now."

"Thanks nurse. And it's _Max._ Never Maxine."

Another chuckle from the nurse. "Well, tell that to your friend in there. Try not to cause any noise complaints." With that, the nurse turned and headed down the hallway. Max slipped through the door into the still-dark room, closing it behind her.

"Did you tell the nurse my name was Maxine?"

Chloe's outburst of howling laughter was a good enough answer. "I plead guilty as charged, Maxi."

Max hopped up onto the bed, deliberately laying against Chloe's still-tender shoulder. "Ow, fuck dude! Stitches, remember?"

"Oh yeah, right. And my name is Maxine."

The smug smile crept back onto Chloe's face. "Always gotta get me while I'm down, right?"

"Naturally. When else do you stop moving enough for me to get ya?"

Chloe laughed again, before wrapping her good arm over her chest and getting hold of Max, who was now snuggling up against her on the bed.

"They said... I'm supposed to be outta here in about an hour. Once they've finished the paperwork. Care to fill me in on what I missed?"

Max grimaced a little. There was _hella_ shit that went down after Chloe passed out and got put into the ambulance. Firstly, the cops searched the place, top-to-bottom. Turns out Nathan had been kept prisoner here. He was in a pretty godawful state, but he was alive. Second, Prescott Senior had been summoned by Berry and company. As well as the FBI. Hell, that was a party, seeing the piss-ant country sheriffs trying to get their heads around something the Bureau would've committed to the X-Files. Sean Prescott had known only so much: he _knew_ Nathan had been working on some extra-curricular things with his teacher, Jefferson; he _knew_ that Nathan had needed money to pay for some equipment, 'Essential equipment', he'd been told.

Now, he _knew_ that what he had been told earlier, all the fantastical story of his son's exodus to become a master photographer, had very nearly become an exodus to his untimely grave. For a man not known to show much compassion toward his son, Sean broke down as he clasped his arms around Nathan. The past six months had been torture for their entire family, Nathan had seemingly vanished off of the face of the Earth. And it hadn't helped Nathan's state of mind either. Now, however, Sean gave in, turning him over to Dr Jacoby to finally receive the treatment he so badly needed, deserved even.

There was a darker edge to things, too. In amongst all of the relief for one family, grief came for another. Max had never always gotten along with Victoria, but she knew that somewhere inside, she wasn't an evil bitch. The young lady herself was nothing like her facade, in fact. Just as Nathan had been, the pair felt it necessary to have that- attitude- toward outsiders, for fear that their insecurities would come to surface and render them outcasts. Max had seen some of Vic's work, too: such an excellent photographer. Max had always been handy with cameras, but Victoria's skills were far above anything she'd ever seen. Easily able to rival that of... She sighed.

She couldn't even use his name any more, the evil prick. And Victoria was one reason why. Even with the way things had transpired, it hadn't all gone as Max and Chloe had planned. Jefferson had given her just a tad too much- maybe a few microwhatevers, Max was no chemist- and Victoria was now sat up in the ICU, In a coma. A coma, the doctors figured, she would never recover from. Max could even feel a slight tear in the corner of her eye, mercifully out of Chloe's sight. Nobody deserved to die last night, other than the motherfucker whose brains had repainted the floor of that sickening place. Especially not her, not after everything that hadn't happened this time around. Victoria had been far from malicious. Max had been here for half a year, and she'd seen that. Hell, she'd even had chance to make friends- or, at least, not enemies- with Victoria. Under the mask of her persona was a different person. One that deserved to be up-and-about right now. Not lying in an ICU, like some form of fairytale princess. Except no number of kisses from no number of princes would likely rouse her.

Max cleared her throat, preparing to deliver this bittersweet news.

"Well, you should've seen David's face when you passed out from the blood loss and shock. I guess... that note of yours had a purpose, I just never realised that he actually _gave_ a shit, really cared, about you. Anyway, they searched the place. You remember we figured Nathan was already long dead?"

"Yeah?" Chloe felt a slight apprehension befall her.

"He isn't. Jefferson was keeping him prisoner in another part of that bunker, the sick fuck. Man, you shoulda seen his dad when he got there. I've never seen that motherfucker show emotion, even shed a tear. He fucking broke down the minute Nathan was back in his arms. He's up on psych ward right now, getting his checked over by a shrink. An old friend of yours, actually. Dr. Jacoby says hi."

Chloe slapped her good hand across Max's stomach as payback. "Do continue, Max."

"Okay. Well, we're both off the hook. The cops were confused as all hell as to how we'd gotten down there despite no damage to the padlock, but it's safe to say that what they found _in_ there, other than his brains- en l'air- was a far bigger fish to fry. Damn, there are dwarves in the deep ends of swimming pools that coulda been less outta their depth than Berry and his local yokels. The feds are still up there, crawling all over the place like ants. Nathan and Sean have been exonerated anyway: turns out Sean didn't have the slightest fucking idea that the barn had even still been his property, never mind that it had a psychopathic creep's lair underneath it. And given Nathan is currently looking at a list of mental health issues long enough to be committed to Arkham, he's been cleared on grounds of being mentally unfit."

Chloe smiled for a moment, her expression changing suddenly. "Wait a sec. There were four of us in there. Me, you, the asshole creep motherfucker, and Victoria. How's she?"

Max stayed silent. More tears were forming, but she did her best to rid herself of them. Chloe had gotten the hint, though.

"She isn't okay, is she?"

Max shook her head, as she took a slightly shaky breath. This was gonna be hard on both of them.

"He...he...gave her an overdose. She's...in a coma. They don't... think she'll ever recover."

Chloe's head dropped back onto the pillow. "Fuck. I should never have used her as bait. She's gone because..." Chloe found herself choking back tears. Her and Victoria had gotten along about as well as Chloe and Wells had, she still felt guilt and regret. Victoria didn't deserve to die. Not because of Chloe's mistake. "...I fucked up."

Max rolled onto Chloe, pressing her nose against Chloe's and putting her hands against Chloe's cheeks, damp from tears. Chloe deserved better than to rip herself to shreds as Max had done so many times over in so many other timelines. Chloe didn't know it, or hadn't remembered it, but no matter which timeline she was in, Victoria was condemned to death by Jefferson. This timeline was an improvement. Not a great improvement, but it was one either way. And she would be damned if she was going to let her blue-haired goddess of time rip herself apart as she had done on every occasion previous.

"Look at me Chloe, look at me dammit! I've spent enough timelines beating myself up for every single person who died or got hurt, and it was you who told- no, fucking demanded- that I see the truth, that it wasn't my fault! It's my turn now, Jefferson would still have fucking gone for her and she'd be dead, not just in a coma! So stop tearing yourself up!" Max slammed a hand against the pillow beside Chloe's head. Chloe tipped her head up, kissing Max on the nose.

Not put off, Max continued. "You've done _everything_ physically possible to try and make things right. You've come back from the fucking dead, and rewritten about a hundred timelines! Short of going back and throttling the man upstairs and demanding everything turn out how we wanted it, you couldn't possibly have made things any freaking better than they are, okay?"

For few moments, Chloe looked to be on the verge of breaking down into a tearful burst, before sighing and staring up at the ceiling, averting Max's gaze. A slight smile came back onto her face.

"Okay... you win. What's the plan?"

As Max went to answer, a knock came at the door. Max quickly flipped herself off of Chloe and onto the other side of the bed, in time to see their visitor enter.

"God damn it Chloe, I thought I'd lost you!"

Chloe allowed herself a smile. In every timeline and reality, she'd always thought David was a total asshat. A wannabe who couldn't put his army life behind him. And yet, in every fucking timeline she was proven wrong. She didn't mind any more, either. He'd saved their asses in virtually every instance, never demanding anything of the pair, not even an explanation of what had just happened. And again, seeing he too cared about her, in the timeline before Max reset things. The one where she lay atop the final resting place of her once-main love interest, an entry wound adjoining the lines of her eyebrows. How utterly destroyed he'd been when Max broke the news, having been freed from her personal hell. And the action David chose as payback for the loss of one of his only two priorities in life. Chloe still hadn't got her head around how she'd got him so fucking wrong. But, it was amazing how an afterlife experience, and the ability to jump timelines as easily as walking along railroad tracks, could change perspectives on life.

"Figures you'd be the first to come see me. Mom still at the diner?"

"Yeah. She's been worried sick, after she found out you'd been shot. We didn't know if you'd make it!"

"I guess so. I take it my hospital bill is now on my tab as well? Sorry."

David smiled. "Matter of fact, Sean Prescott, no less, has offered to pay. A thank-you for finding his son alive."

Chloe huffed a slight laugh, her face changing to a smile. "That right, huh? Turns out the man with an iron heart has feelings after all."

David joined in the laughter. "Indeed he does. I suppose I'll leave you girls to yourselves. And Chloe?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for trusting me. You're not so bad yourself, either."

With that, he turned and left once again. Max was sat, doe-eyed at what she'd just seen. This timeline was really fucking with her so far.

"So...that happened. And David isn't the total dickhead I thought he was."

"Heard that!", a voice came from outside the room, a touch of amusement to it.

"Shit!" Max squeaked with surprise, as Chloe chuckled softly again.

"You know loitering with intent is still a felony, right?"

Another hearty laugh came from outside the door, fading as David headed for his car. As the sound still echoed faintly up the corridor, a nurse bustled in with a clipboard in hand.

"Sign here please, Ms. Price."

Chloe skimmed the paper. "The hell is this? A court order?"

"Discharge papers. We're happy enough to turn you loose. Just try not to do anything too- energetic- with that arm for a while, huh?" The nurse quipped, glancing at Max. Max returned the glance with a look that distinctly said one word: _what?!_

Chloe snorted another laugh at this, as she swiped up the pen and scribbled what passed as a signature onto the base of the scripture, before the nurse took back the clipboard. She gestured to a chair adorned with some clothes thrown on it in the corner.

"Your friend here elected to bring over a selection of clothes while you were still out. With any luck, she knows your style. I'll leave you two to it. And no funny business, okay?" With an almost cheeky smile, the nurse backed out of the door.

Max shot a look back at Chloe, eyebrow raised and another comically surprised expression on her face. "The hell was she talking about?"

Chloe continued to chuckle as she sat up, swinging her legs out of bed and shuddering as her feet grazed the icy floor.

"Fuck, this floor is freezing, dude!"

Max smiled, as a line popped into her head from a sci-fi film that had once given her nightmares.

"Well whaddaya want me to do, fetch your slippers for ya?"

Chloe punched her lightly in the shoulder as she hobbled across to her clothes. "Geek."

"Dork. Hurry up and get changed, we got stuff to do."

Chloe tried getting her shirt back on, to find her shoulder wouldn't do as she wanted. Not without hurting like someone was still poking a piece of metal into it, and even then she could only slightly rotate the joint. The look on Chloe's face told Max everything she needed to know.

"Shoulder not working?"

"No. Not really."

Max shrugged. "C'mere, I'll get you your shirt on. It's not like that nurse hasn't figured out where us two fit in with each other."

Chloe gave Max another light shove to the shoulder with her one good arm. "Perv. Any idea how she knows?"

"Not a clue. At least she hasn't mentioned it to our parents, that would be... awkward."

Chloe smiled at the thought of Max's face, if either her parents of Max's chose to bring such a fact up. "Not for me it wouldn't. Wouldn't be the first time." Chloe sighed a little, merely saying that had brought back memories of the one girl who had really turned her world upside down, for both better and worse. A flash of a hand past her eyes snapped her out of it.

"I know what's going on in there, Chlo'. I think I've learned how that feels. C'mon, we've got a stop to make before we leave the hospital."

Chloe shot Max a puzzled look as she went to open the door. "We do?"

Max nodded. "Yep. Cya outside, cripple."

Chloe growled at her, in her usual aggressive-yet-playful way, before gathering her remaining things from the room and wandering out of the door, to find Max leaning against the wall.

"So, who are we visiting, exactly?"

Max gave Chloe a look that anyone else would've taken as a serious stare. "Take an educated guess." After a moment or two, the penny dropped. Chloe's look changed to one of concern.

"Is that a good idea?"

"No idea. We'll find out soon enough."

With that, Max grabbed Chloe's arm and half-walked, half-dragged her along the corridor, to a hail of complaints from Chloe.

 _A few minutes later_

 _ABMC Psychiatric Ward_

Nathan jumped slightly as the door swung open, more surprised at the two young women who came through it. He recognised one easily enough: anyone and everyone knew who Chloe Price was. The other... he'd never seen her face before. _But any associate of Price was normally just as bad as her, just look at Rachel Amber._ He flinched, as more thoughts flooded through his head, before challenging the duo. "The hell do you want here?", he snapped.

Chloe raised her hands a little, but Max cut her chance to speak off. "Cool it, man. Jeez, we're only here to see how you are."

"Really, huh? Like, all these doctors, shrinks, fucking morons, they're all _only here to see how I am_."

"Yes, really."

Nathan shot a more direct look at Chloe. "The fuck happened to you? Piss somebody else off?"

Chloe shot an equally icy glare back at him. "No. I got this trying to get the motherfucker who had you prisoner for half a fucking year. Talk about gratitude. And you can thank Max, she's the one who put that asshole down." Nathan glanced back and forth, between the dagger expressions he was getting. He backed down, realising he was barking up the wrong tree entirely.

"Alright. Don't go parading it around though, Victoria will want your blood for killing him. Reminds me, it's... weird. I thought she had my back, yet I've been here for nearly two days and yet she's a no-show. Bitch."

Max flicked a glance at Chloe, her face saying everything she needed to know. _He doesn't know yet._ Unfortunately, Nathan noticed the face too.

"What? What's got you so bothered, huh?"

Max begun, "Nathan...I'm-"

"Sorry. You don't wanna know." Chloe finished, only just able to hold her voice steady. Nathan's face dropped.

"I...I don't get it. What happened? Tell me!"

Chloe took a deep breath, composing herself the same way Max had been forced to do on a million different occasions across a thousand timelines. "He...he got her. Had her under his arm when he came into the fucking place. Medics said...she's...I'm sorry, Nathan. She...didn't fucking deserve this!"

 _So much for keeping composure._

Even with Chloe totally going into meltdown halfway through her explanation, Nathan got the picture. He sank back into his chair, distraught. "God...no, not her. Please, not her! This can't be fucking real!" With that, he too broke apart inside. Since his sister had left to work for the Peace Corps, Vic had been the closest thing to a sibling he'd had. And the man he had trusted like family, closer than anyone, the one who'd promised him the world and more... that prick was responsible for this. He was gonna fucking pay.

Max was torn between comforting one and the other. A brief internal shrug, and she grabbed one under each arm, sitting between and cradling them. It was as destroying to her to see these two in pieces as it was to have found out in the first place. As much as she'd never been able to get as friendly with Nathan as she had Victoria, as he'd always- unsurprisingly, in hindsight- been outwardly hostile towards anyone trying to get within a hundred yards of him, she still felt for him. In six months, his world had been ripped apart and turned to dust. And now, he had to try and put things back together. Max turned to him, with one idea in her head to try and cheer him up.

"She's still alive. She's still got a chance, Nathan, and if I know Vic well enough..."

Nathan's incessant tears halted briefly, with a sniff. "I know." Max stood up, dragging Chloe to her feet as well. As the pair went back in the direction of the door, Nathan called after them once more.

"Max?"

Max stopped as her hand rested on the door. She turned to look at Nathan once more, or at least the broken soul occupying the emaciated shell of his body. "Thanks...for letting me know. And for everything."

Not quite knowing how to reply, Max gave a shallow nod accompanied by a meek smile, before pushing open the door and walking Chloe back out into the bustle of the main part of the hospital. After a few moments of walking silently, Chloe finally broke in. She'd looked shellshocked all the way from Nathan's room.

"That...wasn't how I expected things to go."

Max returned her semi-stunned partner's gaze with another devious smile. "How did you expect it to go, _Blackwell Bathrooms_ style?"

The look on Chloe's face was replaced by one of irritation. "Dude, fucking seriously?! That didn't even happen in this timeline!" Max laughed at her reaction. Not that it didn't hurt to think of the hundred or so times those events had replayed in her head, but given it was the only nerve she'd found to get Chloe back with, and the only one that wouldn't result in _her_ spending time eating hospital food...

"Will you _ever_ stop bringing that up?"

Max raised an eyebrow. "Sure. As soon as you stop bringing up the buckshot dents. And the nose, and the-" Max's counter-demand was stifled by a hand across her mouth and Chloe's nose against hers, as the pair continued to stroll along the ward.

"Deal. Now, lets blow this joint before they bill us for something else." Max's face looked as though she'd butten something bitter as Chloe took her hand away from Max's mouth.

"Your hand smells like ass. I don't think I wanna know why. And I'm driving, I don't trust a crip to drive a stickshift."

Max started walking a little faster, as Chloe gave chase out of the front doors and all the way to the truck, pinning Max against the door as she got there.

"Maybe not the most appropriate place, Chloe."

Chloe chuckled, reaching round behind Max with her good arm and squeezing her in a hug. "There's a time and a place for everything, my dear."

"Yeah, but the hospital parking lot in front of half of Blackhell may not be the best time _or_ place, may it?"

Chloe blushed, shooting a brief glance over her shoulder. Just as Max called it, shit. Well, there goes the innocence of all parties: Max and Chloe and the eyes of the onlookers. _Still, haters gonna hate,_ Max thought, flipping them the bird and beating Chloe to it, as she opened the door. "Get in, we're gonna burn hell outta here!" With that, Max crunched the gears into place- to a torrent of side-seat driving from Chloe- before lurching out of the lot and along another of the coastal roads. As they went, the radio in the truck begun playing a certain hit. Max started singing along to the chorus. "Screaming Hallelujah, Let's make it last forever!"

Chloe laughed herself to hysteria. "Max, you sound like a dying cat when you sing. Plus, when did you starting getting into Ina Morata, thought their shit was too punk for you?"

Max flicked a shallow punch at her thigh. "Dork, please, I've loved their shit since I was sixteen. About the same time you started sneaking off to Firewalk, if I remember what I'm told. Shut up, anyway, we're almost there."

"Where?" Chloe's question was answered by a view. The sun was barely setting over the bay, and Max had decided to park up right by the waterfront, how cliché of her. Still, Chloe wasn't complaining. Max shuffled over to her, once again embracing her.

"Now, I believe, _is_ the right time and hella right place for this. Or am I mistaken?"

As Max begun undressing, Chloe came up with one surefire smart remark. "I thought the nurse said, 'nothing too vigorous'?" Max's only reply was to laugh and sit on Chloe's lap, biting her nose gently. "You calling the foreplay too vigorous already? Wuss."

Chloe took her by surprise, knocking her backward onto the seat, before returning Max's suggestion in kind as the sun set on the second-best day of their week to date.

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _I know this one has been a while in writing, my apologies. It's been an odd month for me, and it's knocked my writing about a bit. This 'Act' of the story is done, as I've decided to can my original final chapter for the Act. Now, comes the final stages of the story. Expect some pretty chaotic things to happen. And yes, the band alluded to are a real band under pseudonym. The chapter title is one of their songs, if it's any help._**

 ** _I decided to throw a few elements in that I hadn't originally considered: the Nathan scene for example. And my original plan was for Victoria to die outright, but I felt this was a far better plot device. Besides, no need to give Nathan more grief and misery..._**

 ** _Oh, and with any luck, the next chapter leading into the finale should be out by Easter. Until then..._**

 ** _B._**


	16. Prelude to Oblivion

Her eyes were still closed, yet Chloe felt the familiar tingling of electricity coursing across her body. It could only mean one thing: she was back _there_. Her eyes flickered open, suddenly exploding open in fear and shock as her surroundings came into focus. Gone was the ethereal white of that place, not on Earth yet not on the other side, it had been replaced. Now, the place looked like a bathroom- no, not any old room, but the one at Blackhell. The same place that all this shit had started in. Every fucking event that led to now had started five feet from where she had awoken now. Her eyes darted around frantically as a million questions populated her mind.

 _Did I fuck up again? What's happening? Where's that fucking doppelganger, so I can beat the shit out of it?!_ _And why does everything feel so different so suddenly?_

She stood up, staggering to a sink to wash her face off in the cold water. This bullshit wasn't doing wonders for how she felt. She glanced up at the mirror, jumping back in fright at the image: in place of her reflection was her alternate self. The one from the timeline where Max tried saving William from that semi, and instead set Chloe up for two years of agony and misery, leading into a long-overdue death as her lungs gave out. She growled, clutching her head, as the memory played out in her conscience from the third-person, her mind with Max down by the beach.

 _'Probably easier to write than to visit me. I don't mean that in a bitchy way. Not totally. You probably wanted to avoid awkward conversations like this.'_

 _Max's expression being one of calm, yet concealing utter horror. And Chloe now understood that._

 _A new image appeared in her mind. Sat behind the wheel of that truck, being ran off the road. Feeling that one last agonising impact, as her back shattered with the force of the crash. Everything going black, before being replaced by flashlights and emeegency vehicle's lights._

 _Waking in the hospital, concerned faces all around. Dad's as well. Trying to move, trying anything, everything. Nothing._

A flutter in the next mirror caught Chloe's attention. Chloe choked on her breath as the voices of that scene played out once again. This time, the events unfolded as they had once before, with Chloe a passenger in her own body. In this room, on a mundane Monday that felt a lifetime ago, and really kinda was.

 _'Nobody would ever miss your "punk ass" would they?'_

 _'Get that gun away from me, psycho!'_

A sharp crack, like that 9-mill that Nathan had unleashed into Chloe's chest. Except it wasn't that, but instead the sound of one of the stall doors being slammed open. Other-Chloe staggered out, almost pale. A dark crimson stain across her waist. Shuddering, she collapsed against the stall, drawing a cigarette from her jacket. A brief search revealing no lighter, she shrugged and clicked her fingers, rendering them into flame. She took a puff on the cigarette, finally speaking.

"Whatcha staring at me like that for? Never seen your dumb ass get shot?"

Chloe was still dumbstruck. "But...But I thought-"

"That you'd got everything in order and that everything was gonna be rosy. So did I." Chloe stared at her alternate tormentor in a state of confusion, mixed with pure fury.

"So you've had me running around in time, fucking about with everything and everyone, and it _ISN'T_ gonna do squat? Are you fucking cereal?"

Other-Chloe looked up from the ember at the tip of her cigarette, a more serious and meaningful expression on her face. "No, I did not say that. What you've done has worked, no mistake about it, but what I _mean_ is that this isn't gonna last. Serious shit is going to happen, and you're not gonna like where you fit into the scene."

Other-Chloe stood up, observing the still-shocked expression on Chloe's face. To her further surprise, her tormentor took her head in both hands, before kissing her. She tasted much like Max had said she did, except the abundant steel of blood and something else. Something Chloe couldn't quite figure out.

"Look, all this time I've tried _every-fucking-thing_ I can to keep you safe and get you back in the game. I'm not the bitch I seem, and- fuck, I really wish I didn't have to do this again."

Chloe's head was still spinning from the information overload she'd just been through. "Do...do what?"

Chloe looked into Other-Chloe's eyes, realising they were full of tears. "I gotta show you. I... I'm going to have to take you there. There's no other way." With that, Other-Chloe grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the third mirror, and shoved her free arm... through it. It looked liquid-like, almost like the Terminator. A sudden force, and both were pulled into the mirror as everything went black briefly.

 _Arcadia Bay. Main Street._

The light returned to a level Chloe could see in, with a crack of lightning. The wind howled past her, rain and hail pelting her as if fired by a sand-blaster. She looked around, not that anything was visible out to more than a hundred feet. What _was_ visible was terrifying. It looked like the- no. This was worse than the time she'd seen the tornado go Full Apocalypse on the Bay. It looked like a fucking nuclear warhead had gone off in the centre of town. Bodies, dismembered parts, blood, wreckage. Nobody she recognised, thank God. The transformers were sparking like crazy, too. The lines were down, one lying in a pool of water and- fuck. Someone lying in the pool, smoke, maybe steam rising up from the unmoving, blackened mass. They might still be alive. Mightn't they? Every building was already virtually shattered, some staggering in the street, pain-crazed. Someone bumped into Chloe as she scanned the area. She caught a glimpse of them: Warren. His chest and lower neck showered in fragments of glass, one eye closed, barely coherent, blood pissing from virtually everywhere on his face and neck at once. He collapsed to the ground at her feet.

Chloe looked onward further. A group of people trying to free someone, pinned under a fallen I-beam, and- _No. NO, MOVE! YOU'RE GOING TO D-_

The words failed to materialise from Chloe's mouth, as the remaining two stories of the building adjacent collapsed onto them, with a groaning of metal and a brief, terrified scream. Chloe looked toward the ground, gagging at the sight of what jutted out from beneath. She tried walking forward. For some reason, she had no control over anything except being able to see, hear and feel everything in all its terrible and bloody entirety. A car was lifted, wholesale, before cartwheeling into another pair, obliterating them in a spray of blood and bone. Chloe felt faint, yet her body wasn't reacting to anything as she expected it to. A gas main ruptured nearby, illuminating everything around it in an orange glow. Chloe's arm lifted involuntarily, shielding her eyes from the immense heat and light. All of a sudden, everything calmed. The wind, whipping up anything not anchored down and using it as missiles, had all but died down to a breeze. The hammering rain and hail, all but gone. Chloe lifted her head up, immediately figuring out what had just happened.

 _Oh shit. Fucking hell, no! This can't be happening! This shit has never happened on the West Coast!_

The eye of the storm. It was biblical in radius, five miles, easy. Again, Chloe's body moved off, staggering along the street and tripping over occasional pieces of debris, while she looked on from this almost spectator view at the chaos. _Downtown Baghdad would be nicer to be in,_ Chloe mused, as something occurred to her that made her blood run cold. _Where's Max? Please don't be dead! And mom, David! No!_ Her body refused to run for home, to try and find closure. Instead, it continued its solemn staggering march along the main street. Through a field of chaos and devastation.

The Two Whales had virtually ceased to exist, parts of it were lying scattered across the entirety of the street. No sign of any bodies. Thank God. Again, the base of where

A pained outcry to her left. Chloe turned, finding Max under a wooden roof joist that had collapsed from the buulding above. Her hair was matted with blood, her arm- God, it was a mess- and one of her legs looked pretty fucked up. Chloe moved over, dodging the mayhem and sparking wires all around. Her hands wrapped around the joist, heavy piece of shit though it was.

"Okay Max, this is gonna hurt. When I say go, you-"

"CHLOE, LOOK OUT!"

Chloe's head snapped to one side, too late. A chunk of metal, maybe broken loose from an exploded gas car on the train that had been eviscerated. It hit Chloe squarely, befofe she'd even known what was happening. Yet Chloe could still hear and feel everything, briefly. The terrified scream of Max as the remnants of her best friend sprayed across her. And a sensation of being propelled backward, until-

A hard thud, and Chloe found herself back in _that_ place. She slid a few feet across the floor. The voice returned.

"So that...that's what happens."

Chloe glanced at Other-Chloe. She looked... more transparent. Like she was, shitballs, she _was_ , fading. What the fuck?

"Wait, what's happening to-"

Other-Chloe glanced at herself, noting her degraded state, with a 'huh'.

"That's new. Must be getting to that time again."

"None of this makes sense! What the fuck was that? How the fuck did that happen?"

Other-Chloe shook her head, as she slumped down and sat next to Chloe, still lying on the floor, shellshocked. "That... is how I died. Die. How I'm going to die... fuck. Ain't time travel a bitch? I can't even remember which is the correct way to word it any more. I'm talking about things that haven't even happened yet in the past tense. I can't even begin to imagine how that's going down for you."

"But...how does that-"

"Happen? You'll be delighted to know, this is the first time something shitty has happened that _wasn't_ your fault. Since Dad died, anyway."

"This... it's all so, fucked. Nothing seems to make sense." Chloe was dumbstruck. Not that this wasn't her fault, but that all this seemed to be happening so suddenly.

"I know, like that storm. It wasn't something we expected. Me and Max, we figured we'd beaten the world. We never knew that was coming. It wasn't until I wound up here that I understood why."

Chloe could barely believe what she'd just heard. Her tormentor, the one who'd fucked with her so much, was-

"Surprise. I'm you, yeah. Just, not from here, if you catch my drift. I knew how everything was gonna go down that I've made you do, even though you did things in a little different a way. That's why I tried to put you off what haplened with Rachel. I so desperately wanted you to... try and find another way. But, it seems, that _was_ the only for things to go this way. To cut her loose."

Chloe could feel her eyes tearing up. Other-Chloe, her touch lighter than before, cradled her, almost like a mother. "I know how that felt. The moment you left to go do that, I broke apart up here, getting a motherfucking ringside seat to it all, for the third time. Ripped right off the rails. That's probably why I freaked and beat the hell out of you, too. Anyway, that storm wasn't preventable, because it was set in motion before any of this. Or either of us."

Chloe stared at her, barely understanding what she'd been told. How could something of _that_ size have taken over two decades to form.

"The curse that's terminally screwed _dear_ Arcadia Bay was set over a century ago. Remember how the history books say about the Natives in this area, and how we all got along merrily and that they just vanished one day? Turns out, that wasn't entirely accurate. Cause: the Prescotts, surprise surprise. Don't blame the current generation though, they have no idea." With that, a rolled parchment appeared in Other-Chloe's hand. "This," she continued, "Is the key to all the crazy shit going on. The Prescotts decided one day to take over all the land in the name of the 'rightful' settlers. Cooked up a story about Native aggression and brought a regiment of fucking cavalry up to get rid of them, sometime around 1885. Two hundred Chinook tribespeople were slaughtered. Men, women, kids... but a group held out, just long enough, to have the last laugh." With that, she unrolled the parchment. It was written in a language Chloe had never seen before, it looked like it belonged on some screen in Deckard's apartment.

"It means absolutely nothing to me, but I managed to find someone who could tell me what it meant. Perks of being dead, and all. Long story short, 'he who does not belong here, will not exist by the coming of the cutter moon of the thirteen-stick. Which, if you're not fluent in Native, is a hundred and thirty years from that November. This year. And that storm... falls on the ninth. Poor Max, if only she'd held out a little longer after you died, she'd already know about this."

Chloe gasped in shock. "But that's only two fucking weeks away!" Other-Chloe laughed, shaking her head.

"It's shitty, I know. But still, Max only had Monday to Friday to figure everything out: the mystery of Rachel; Jefferson; her feelings toward you. And nobody knew that tornado was coming. It's hella hard to miss the precursors for a Category Four Hurricane, ain't it?" With that, another item materialised. A newspaper, dated October 26th. Its heading alluded to an almost unseen phenomena on the Pacific Coast.

"An El Niño event. Basically, it turns the hot and cold water in the Pacific on its head. Triggers what you just came forward in time to see. The weather people go ape over it, but nobody seems to see it coming. Shame. Not even Max knows about this timeline, as you saw with Jefferprick."

"Wait...how does that even work? I mean, she knew about some of the stuff that happened, how doesn't she know about this? How the fuck did she lose the memory from the timeline where that creep took her captive?"

Other-Chloe shook her head. "No idea. My guess is that the timeline has been so badly bent over by everything that we and Max have done... it's probably had some effect on the whole 'continuum and space-time fabric' thing. Which would go a ways to explaining that, too." Other-Chloe yelped in agony again, her form flickering. For the first time, Chloe was genuinely didn't want to lose her, this other version of herself.

"What... what the fuck's happening?!"

Other-Chloe smiled at her. "Like I said, my time's almost due. If you manage to libe where I died, then you and this timeline will replace me. I will cease to be, as will all of this. Fail, and you take my place. That's what you've wanted all this time, right? To be free of me?"

Chloe shook her head fervently. "Hell no, how the fuck will I get anything right? I'd never have managed without you!"

Other-Chloe met this argument with a laugh. "You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out. Besides, you've got her." She gestured at a shadowy figure, only just materialising. Greeting her, the familiar face of the one extraordinary brunette, who in her own way had set so much of this in motion. The one she'd rip the space-time continuum apart for.

Other-Chloe turned back to face her. "I got killed trying to do the right thing. Sadly, you're going to have to choose: Die trying to save lives when shit goes down in the Bay, or take Max and run for the hills. I'd pick numero dos if I were you. Do it for yourself. Do it for Max. Now go on, get out of here and get on with it. Do it before I freak..."

 _The Price Household._

 _October 26th, 2013._

 _9.21 am_

Chloe woke drenched in a cold sweat, heart racing and panting as though she'd just ran from the Bay to Portland and back. Max was already awake, ever the morning gal. She looked worried sick. Chloe's eyes darted around the room, forcing herself to comprehend that she was back again.

"Chloe, the hell's wrong? You're sweating like a preacher in a playground."

Normally, Chloe would first have laughed, and then wondered where Max had gotten so many lewd metaphors. Probably from her. Instead, she started crying. Max lay on her side, cradling her as her future, alternate self had done what felt like moments before. Chloe shook her head, still in disbelief at what she'd seen. What she'd seen happen to the Bay, to her beloved. To herself.

"You...remember what I said...the day we went after scumbag?"

"Kinda, Chloe. Something about 'but for how long '?"

"Two...weeks."

Max stared at her, in near total disbelief. "What?"

"We've got...two weeks until...it happens. "

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _Aand now, hopefully, I've explained how and why Other-Chloe exists. This is likely to be the last time she appears, but no guarantees as nothing beyond this point has been written yet. Such begins the final Act: Oblivion._** **_I've upped the rating to M as I figure stuff like what I've written isn't exactly kid friendly._**

 ** _Oddly, the main sequence in the future fit with Metallica's "The Unforgiven II" while I wrote it. I hope thus doesn't seem rushed, it's just that my writing speed seems to have picked up a little. I've still got most of Before the Storm Ep3 and Farewell to play as well as Fallout 4. Dammit._**

 ** _Until next time._**


	17. Oblivion, Part One

_The Two Whales_

 _O_ _ctober 26th, 2013_

 _11.06 am_

"So, explain to me again how the hell this all works?" Max leaned across the table in their usual booth, still failing to fully understand or get to grips with everything Chloe had told her about what the future held over the past two hours. Naturally, she'd thought Chloe was losing the plot when she'd explainexplained everything about the newspaper and the hurricane... right up until the point where she shot a glance at the news-stand.

 _[Freak of the Pacific: El Niño event named by NOAA]_

 _[Heralding the Apocalypse? Weather Phenomena off the coast]_

Max had picked up one of the papers which was less of a rag, and begun reading. It played out just as Chloe had told her. Max had a look on her face as if Chloe had pimp-slapped her into next week.

"Told you so. Care to listen now, Maxi?"

So, here they were. Waiting on their usual supplement of breakfast courtesy of Joyce. Chloe leaned back a little, trying to recall everything that she could about what she'd seen. Most of it really wasn't pleasant at all, so she kept it to the best of her ability to the clean facts.

"Like I said, we've maybe two weeks until that's meant to land. And it'll laugh its ass off at the limp-dicked tornado the Universe sent after us."

Chloe winced as she saw what was going on in the space behind Max's eyes. Putting it like that wasn't gonna make Max's conscience any more sound.

 _Shit. More classic Chloe Price sugar-coating._

"Okay, forget I said that. Or rewind it away."

Max simply stamped down on Chloe's foot under the table, provoking a fairly loud yelp from Chloe. A few of the other patrons looked up from their food and newspapers, before registering the face making the yelp and deciding it best not to get involved. Chloe continued with her brief on what exactly was going on.

"So, that thing in the papers is supposedly the trigger for it. I'm no climatologist, but from what I know it flips shit where water temperature is concerned. Never normally happens, this bad at least. And again, this was set in motion over a century ago. So, no number of rewinds can put it right. Okay?"

Chloe was trying to be as tactful and careful as she could. Sure, Max needed to know _how_ exactly the events would play out, but there were still details that had to remain unmentioned. Like the state she'd seen Warren in, the pain visible in his scarred and disfigured face in the moments before he died, for a start. That, and Max getting along really well with him. Hell, if it weren't for Max having pretty much pledged herself to Chloe, she'd suspect that she had a thing for him. Though maaybe not as much of a thing as he had for her. Ew. That, and what happened to her. Was going to happen to her. Chloe did her best to keep the emotions that evoked hidden, resulting in only a minor frown.

"What is it Chloe?" _Dammit._ Max knew her too well. Hell, that was to be expected after several timelines' worth of rewinding and screwing around with time to try and get everything spinning as it ought to. Obviously, she knew Chloe inside out, especially given they'd ended up being brought together again almost nine months earlier- part fate, part Chloe-screwing-the-timeline- but still, she didn't need to know... that.

"Sorry. It's... It'll be an apocalypse. I saw way too many things in that snapshot. Not exactly pleasant things." Max nodded, in understanding. Typical Max. Chloe could've lied her ass off, said it was down to something else, but it didn't feel right. Damn, Max was having a bad-good influence on her, as she had a good-bad influence on her.

Max gulped down the last of her coffee, gazing out of the window at the clouds amassing on the horizon. A brief shudder passed through her, as the hundred thoughts going through her head matched those of Chloe's. Chloe paled.

"No way. It can't be here yet, Max. They'd have seen it by now, right?"

Max took her eyes off the window, returning her gaze to her one-and-only. "Right. Still, I've got an idea. Something that might help save people."

Chloe tilted her head, trying to gain some purchase on the thoughts in Max's head, sighing and throwing her hands in the air at her fruitless attempt. "Whaddaya suggest? Use a soapbox as a podium and preach in the middle of town? Sure, that'll work out just fine..."

Max laughed at the notion, "Of course not, Dorkus Blavus. Besides, who in this town is dumb enough to listen to you other than me? No, if I remember right, there's an observatory station not that far away. An hour north of here, maybe less."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, but allowed her brunette to continue. Smarter than she looked, as always.

"I suggest we go there, and- _persuade-_ them to keep an eye out. Cook up some story, perhaps, or maybe forge some data or-" Chloe reached over the table, putting a finger to Max's lips, before adding her . "I got the plan for convincing them covered, okay Max? You just focus on not blaming yourself for everything, again." Max shot her a heated look for that comment, before retorting as Max did.

"Oh, I see. Don't let my epic plan get in the way of yours then." Chloe chuckled, ruffling her hair, before standing up and grabbing her by the arm and dragging her out of the door.

 _30 minutes later_

 _Tillamook County Observatory_

Max stumbled out of the truck, paler than normal as Chloe chuckled at her. "Chloe, as strange as it sounds, I'd like to live long enough to _see_ this fucking hurricane. How fast were you taking that road, seventy?"

"Eighty-five, easy."

Max rolled her eyes as both of them begun crossing the parking lot on the doorstep of their target. "Yeah, but in this scrapbox? I'm still amazed we made the speed limit without the frickin' wheels coming off." Chloe gasped, her face a faux insulted expression.

"How dare you insult my wheels, Max! They've done me well for years!" Max raised an eyebrow, throwing Chloe's objection clean out of the court.

"What? It's only broken down on us a couple times."

Max raised another eyebrow. "A couple. Try twenty. Twenty-one, actually."

Chloe shook her head. "Dude, that time doesn't count! It started working again, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now, let's see your plan. And it better not involve me rewinding shit."

Chloe chuckled once more as she shouldered the door open, heading along the corridors by way of the signs above them. Strange, no guards or rent-a-cops were about. A few wrong turns, flights of stairs and what would've been a hundred dollars in the swear jar later, they found what they hoped would be their aim. Chloe swung the door open, walking in to a somewhat bewildered analyst at his ancient computer, who jumped in his seat, straightening his posture and his glasses as though he were expecting his supervisor.

"Um... can I help you, ma'am?"

Chloe gave him her friendliest look possible. "Yes, actually. You one of the dudes who checks up on the watersensorthingys off the coast?"

The analyst gave her a suspicious look. "You're not about to lecture me on the speculations about that are- wait, are you two press? I'm calling security."

Chloe was taken off guard a moment, but managed to shoot off another line as the guy reached for his landline. "Dude, chill! We aren't press. But, yeah, it is related to that thing going on off the coast. You can see things on satellite, right?"

The analyst moved his glasses down his nose, rubbing his eyes. "Yes, I can. But it's not something I'm allowed to show you, okay? Can you leave now, please?"

"I'm not _asking_ to look at the satellite stuff. Hell, between your prehistoric rig and me not knowing anything about this stuff, I'd be lost. No, all I ask is that you keep a close eye on it. I've... got a bad feeling about it, that's all.

Mr. Specs stopped, his coffee cup touching his lip. "What do you mean, _got a bad feeling_? Is there something you're not telling me?" he pondered, his gaze shifting between Chloe and Max, the latter leaving her partner-in-crime to do what she did best.

"No, nothing at all."

"Well, I can't do this without my supervisor's approval. Takes a lot of resources to divert in order to stare at one area of ocean over _a bad feeling_. Sorry, girls, nothing much I can do. It's outside the scope of what I can do."

Chloe huffed. _So much for the peaceful option. Time to light this dweeb up, and with any luck avoid us being thrown out or arrested. Chance would be a fine thing._

"Outside the scope, huh? So, you mean endangering lives by turning a blind eye to something _this_ big?"

The remark startled Mr. Specs. "Wait, what do you mean? It's not like ignoring it is gonna make things happen. What gives you that idea anyway, a pipe dream?"

Max cut Chloe off. "Don't let the look fool you, man. She may look like a stoner and a high-school dropout, but she could probably do your job better than you do it."

"W-What? What's your goddamn interest in this phenomena anyway? You don't even know a damned thing about atmo-science or oceanography, you said as much yourself!"

Chloe stood up straight again, taking her hands off of the desk where they had been astride Specs' monitor. "You're right. I don't know a damned thing about it, really. But is doesn't take a shitty PhD in whatthefuckever it is you obviously have one in to work out that something this fucking huge isn't rosy, hombre."

"What's all of this shouting about? Who are you two, what are you doing here? Out, now, before I get the police down here." This new voice had a face almost reminiscent of Jefferson's, and a style to boot. Freaky coincidence, and nothing else. Unless that fucking creep had somehow resurrected and found the missing pieces of his skull. Besdies, his accent was nothing like creep-o's. Where his had been Seattle, this guy was... Cali, or Nevada, maybe?

Chloe rounded on her new adversary. "It's fine, we were leaving anyway. Just, _curious_ about this, er, El Nino event? I don't know what the hell they call 'em? Something about it worries me, I just wanted to try and settle my fears."

Doppelganger gave her an interrogatory stare. "Curious, huh? The kind of curious I'm used to doesn't normally involve hollering that can be heard on another wing. Just a thought. Besides, you've got me curious now. What's the big worry?"

Chloe discreetly gulped. She shot a brief glance past Doppelganger at Max, who already had her time-bending hand ready, just in case.

"I don't know, to be quite honest. I picked up a little bit of information about it, and it worried me. They say this thing's the worst there's ever been on this coast. That's right, isn't it?"

Doppelganger remained silent, simply nodding in confirmation.

"So," Chloe continued, "It's possible that this could, I don't know, mess with the weather? Create things that we don't normally see?"

Doppelganger shifted a tad, moving his head slightly on his shoulders as he weighted up what to do. "What are you getting at? You're worried that this could cause something, a storm perhaps?"

Chloe nodded. "Maybe. I mean, it couldn't cause a hurricane, could it? I know, it sounds absolutely insane, even I," she elaborated, shooting a glance at Specs, who at this point in time was scooching down slowly in his seat, "know that water has to be pretty warm, like ninety degrees warm, to cause something like that."

A concerned frown appeared on Doppelganger's face. He turned to face Specs, who looked like he was about to piss himself. "Kevin, take a look at those readings, will ya'?"

"Y-y-yessir. Right away, sir." A wry smile appeared on Chloe's face, though nobody noticed. _Kevin_ pushed his glasses back up into place, leaning in toward the monitor as he typed commands and computerjunk in frantically. He froze, jaw wide open.

"Uh...Y-you're g-gonna want to look at this, sir."

Doppelganger stepped over the trashcan, overflowing with disposable cups- _despicable care for the environment, Kevin,_ Chloe mused- before leaning over the back of the deskchair and poring over the screen, his eyes flitting back and forth like a crazed soul's.

"You sure this data's right?"

"Y-yeah."

"This can't be right. You sure we ain't got a faulty buoy out there?"

Kevin shook his head, looking more terrified than before. Not at whom Chloe could only guess was his boss being right over his shoulder, but at the prospect of whatever was freaking them both out. "I...I don't think so."

"Hm. What are the odds of a buoy failure again?"

"About half a million hours MTBF, sir," Kevin answered, frantically entering more information into the computer. A screen on the wall blinked on, with an 80s-style green text and diagram. The diagram was of the West Coast, all the way out toward Hawaii. Amid a sea of black, hundreds of green dots, one showed up red at this point.

"Okay. Set the data cycle off, 10 second refresh intervals. Let's see what that looks like."

More typing. The map begun changing. One red light became two, became eight, became thirty. Soon, almost every sensor between Vancouver Island and San Diego was engulfed in a neon-red blip.

Doppelganger slumped onto the edge of the desk, kneading the bridge of his nose with his hands covering most of his face. After what felt like a year, he spoke once again.

"Holy shit. What as it you were saying..."

"Chloe."

"Right. What were you saying earlier, something about a hurricane off our waters being 'absolutely insane'"?

Chloe paled. "Surely not..."

Doppelganger nodded, standing up to face the board. "See these red dots? They're buoys detecting abnormal water temperatures. Kevin, here, has just tweaked the definition of 'abnormal'. Normally, anything above seventy degrees is abnormal, but he's reset the parameters. This map is currently showing buoys that are detecting water temperatures above ninety-five degrees. And," he uttered, gesturing at the screen with a sweep of the arm, "that's what we got. There's no way in hell that many buoys can fail. I figure we owe you one. We'll do what we can from here. I apologise for my subordinate's tone toward you, I assure you that it was unwarranted. I suggest you get home as soon as you can, ladies. And thanks." As the pair headed out of the door, Chloe turned back. "I didn't catch your name." Doppelganger stood up, walking to the doorway that Chloe stood in, before fumbling in his pocket and drawing a small card.

"Here's my card. If there's anything else that comes up, Feel free to call me. Be safe now. And you can call me Joe." With a smile, Joe returned to the edge of the desk, snatching up the landline from Kevin's desk and punching in a number. Chloe and Max shared a bewildered look before heading back out. By the time they'd exited the building, it was already starting to rain. More and more clouds had built up, forming a black smear running all the way to the horizon. Chloe inspected the business card as the hopped into the truck, knowing immediately what Max was about to say.

"Did you see that guy? He looked way too much like-"

"Creep-O, I know. It ain't him, trust me. Joe Garcia, huh? Cool enough name. Anyway, I don't remember Jefferson having a freaking Associate's in Meteorology, do you? Come on, let's burn for home. I'm hella dead after today."

"Really? What's wrong, the punk's battery broken?" Max shot a glance at the time on her phone. "Huh. I guess it is pretty late. How long were we in there?"

"Screwed if I know. Felt like a month."

The ride home was quieter, neither speaking nearly as much to the other. Each deep in their own thoughts. All the while, the clouds built ever-greater along the horizon, like an army of the Gods, about to march forth and flatten everything in their path, with neither care nor concern about what that everything was made up of.

Chloe awoke to an unfamiliar sound, kind of like a howl of some sort. She remembered getting back into the house and practically collapsing onto the bed, having briefly heard Max cry out startled, but not much else. Her eyes slowly stirred back into a dazed, hazy view as the noise grew louder and louder still.

"Oh, you're awake. About time, C." Chloe's eyes sprang open as she jumped back, away from the voice. _No. No fucking way! That isn't her! What the fuc-_ Her eyes revealed otherwise. A face she'd dreamt of breaking ever since that day back in April. The only person on the face of the fucking planet that had ever succeeded in sending her emotions through a rollercoaster. She looked just as she had that day. Same clothes, same jewelry, same fucking persona.

"What? I'd have thought you'd be dying to see me again. Even if it were to break my nose again." This... thing, whatever it actually _was_ , tipped its head back and laughed in that infectious pitch that Rachel had always had.

"No...no fucking way! You're not her!"

"Of course she is, Chloe. Come on, you can't say you don't recognise your dad, now."

A sharp pain flooded through Chloe's head, blurring her vision as she clutched at it. As the fogginess cleared, everything was different. Rachel now had a crimson stain on the underarm of her shirt, and one in the lower chest. Probably where Frank had stabbed her. William... her head felt dizzy. Her sight was blurry as all hell but his form was like it had been in all those various nightmares. All that time she'd been haunted during.

"What's the matter, hun'? Can't take the truth of the inevitable?" An image ran through her head, phasing in and out of focus. Darkness, lightning- no. It was that same thing she'd been shown previously. That same fucking storm.

"The inevitable thing is," he continued, "you're going to be joining us. And a lot sooner than you'd ever thought. Shame that Max is gonna have to suffer, all over again."

"See, C., there's nothing you can do about it this time." the apparition of Rachel started up again. "Time fully intends to erase you. And no amount of help from your dear self can help." Another cackling laughter.

"What have you done with her?" Chloe snapped back at her. The familiar vice tighening around her chest was back, good old fear. "Where have you fucking put her? Tell me!"

No response except the continued laughter from the apparition of Rachel. With a growle, furious outcry, Chloe's patience ran out, unleashing an almighty punch at the apparition's face. Instead of recoiling away, as a human would, it broke. More accurately, shattered and crumpled onto the floor like glass. The apparition of William evaporated, like smoke. The black-grey confines of the Hell-within-Hell gave way to something resembling the bathroom once again.

Except everything was different. Holes in the walls, ceiling, everything. And instead of an inky darkness, light. Like the galaxy was through the gaps in the construct. Sticking out from behind the corner, a booted foot. Chloe moved over, trying not to fall through what she guessed were gaps in the construct. At last, the form of her alternate self came into view. A stain across her shirt, not blood, not anything that could even be described in terms of the real world. Patches of her, part of a leg, didn't exist. There was no blood, but it was as if those gaps had been erased.

At last, she spoke up. "Nice to see you're back here."

Chloe scowled at her. "Were those two your idea of a joke?" Other-Chloe shook her head.

"What can I say? The Universe is pissed. Why else d'ya think this place got this makeover? And me, for that matter. Not that it's important. Look, I fucking fucked up, okay?"

Chloe looked even paler than before. "What do you mean, _you fucked up_?"

"That fucking curse! It's- just open your fucking eyes and wake up, you'll see! Shit's going down big time, back in your reality. And don't fuck this up, whatever you do."

Chloe looked back at her, as she went for the door, which had swung open to reveal her, out cold on the bed with Max anxiously staring out of the window.

"Why not?"

Other-Chloe broke eye contact, averting her gaze as she filled in the blanks. "If things go wrong this time, I don't think you- we- will ever get anotherchance to make this timeline work out."

" _We?_ "

Other-Chloe scoffed. "You think you're the first? Wrong. You're the last. The finale. The only fucking hope left for Max to be able to be safe and whole."

Chloe didn't question this final statement. All that mattered now was doing whatever meant necessary to keep herself and Max alive. Even if it meant letting Arcadia Bay, Tillamook- hell, the whole of Oregon- burn, so be it.

 ** _A_** ** _/N_**

 ** _So, here we go. By my count, I've two chapters left before this story is finally at an end. Hopefully everything is at least rational where explanations are concerned, the last thing I want to do is leave a lot of plot holes. If anyone notices any, let me know ASAP so I can try and fix them._**

 ** _Now, the crazy train is about to derail, big time. Hold on to your helmets!_**


	18. Oblivion, Part Two

_The Price Residence_

 _October 27th, 2013_

 _9.21 am_

Chloe snapped awake to the incessant drumming of rain against the windows and roof. Max sat perched on the desk, staring out of the window.

"Max, away from the window!"

Max jumped slightly, turning to face Chloe. "Why? What's going on?"

"It's here." Chloe elaborated as she threw on her clothes as fast as possible. "I don't know how and I sure as fuck don't know why, but El Huracan out there has came early. C'mon, we got shit needing done. We might be the only chance people here have." The pair hurtled down the stairs, practically flying out of the door as they went. Chloe shot a glance across the bay as the rumbling of thunder became more pronounced, making her hair stand on end. As far as the eye could see, a roiling ceiling of black and dark grey, turning day into night with the exception of the occasional burst of blanket lightning. "Chloe, where are we going?" Max looked how she felt right now, fucking terrified.

"The radio station. We need to raise the alarm before it's too late." As she dived into the driver's seat of her slightly more battered truck, courtesy of the night in October where they finally vanquished the evil that was Jefferson, she tapped out a brief message, sent both to David and Mom.

 _Guys,_

 _Drop whatever you're doing and find shelter. Not trying to play any pranks and this sure isn't an early April Fool's. This weather... something else is coming. Gonna go get the alarms set off._

 _Be safe. Love you both._

 _N_ _ever thought I'd be saying that to David- funny how times change_ , Chloe's voice in her head quipped as the truck roared back into life, and she gunned it for the radio station. The roads were busier than normal, which was more of a worry right now. Nobody here knew what was coming- yet. Luckily, the back roads leading up to the isolated radio station were ghostly quiet. Only the odd deer here and there. A slight fog was also beginning to materialise, roughly a foot off the ground and gradually rising, as if the current situation wasn't eerie or ominous enough. It became thicker and thicker as the road wound onward, until neither could see more than twenty yards ahead. Finally, the collision lights atop the radio mast finally broke through the murk, as the headlamps caught the chain-link fence surrounding the small brick building. A few short moments later, the two burst through the door of the isolated station, to the DJ's surprise.

"What are you kids doing here? Scram, before I call the cops!" Chloe rolled her eyes and glanced at Max, who was taking the exact same action. As she opened her mouth to reply to this challenge, Max cut her off. "In case you haven't been watching the Weather Channel this morning, dude, shit's going down. And _you_ need to get the alarms going." The DJ flicked his gaze between one and the other. "Oh... some kinda prank, huh? Trying to 'punk' my ass? Not gonna happen." Chloe shrugged, before tugging the windowless door open once again. The wind tore through the door like a freight train, behind it a torrent of rain and debris. "Does THAT look like we're trying to punk you, asshole?!" Chloe called out above the howling of the wind, before slamming the metal back into its frame.

"No, but I think you're still over-reacting. Storms aren't good grounds to incite panic and get everyone scuttling for cover."

"Perhaps not," Chloe retorted impatiently, "but there's something worse coming. I can fucking feel it. Hell, the big guy over at the Observatory said as much when we spoke to him." The DJ stared, almost scowled, at her. "You did _WHAT?_ "

"We did." Max stuck a hand into Chloe's pocket, to her surprise, drawing the calling card Joe had given them barely twelve hours earlier. "And you know what? I'm gonna get a hold of him again. Just to settle your mind." With that, Max punched in the number and hit dial. Sure enough, the receiver was picked up. "Uh, hello? I've kinda got my hands full here, so make it quick."

"Er, hey Joe. I'm putting you on speaker, hang on."

"Okay, so what's the urgency?" Max sighed, taking a breath briefly before asking the one thing on everyone's minds in the room. "Two things: One what's out there? Off the bay, I mean; two, should we be thinking about alerting people, maybe getting them out of here?" A silence. It was only a matter of a few moments, but it felt like an hour or two. "I...I can answer both questions. First, about the evacuation. I'll be damned surprised if the sirens aren't already sounding down there. As far as the storm's concerned... our radars and NOAA storm-chaser craft are on this. Their prognosis is that this thing is currently a Category Three hurricane. However it is gaining speed and strength rapidly- we've never tracked a hurricane changing this fast- so the prediction is that this'll hit a high Four by the time it makes landfall. And that is expected to happen..."

More silence, broken by an incoherent outcry of surprise, and- Chloe deduced- not the nice kind of surprise. "Holy shit. Guys, that thing is gonna make landfall in twenty minutes, tops. Get the word out and get out, as fast as humanly fucking possible. May god be with you." With that, the receiver was replaced at the other end of the line.

The DJ's thoughts were accurately conveyed by his near-ghostly pallor. He sat down at the mixing desk, flicking a series of switches. The 80s music on air was replaced by an Emergency Broadcast System, as outside sirens begun to sound off. The same sirens that were in place to herald incoming nuclear annihilation from the West were now in full song. _Heralding alright, but instead of nuclear hell they herald high water, so to speak,_ The ever-unhelpful voice in Chloe's head chipped in once again.

"You two, get going. I'll stay, and hold the fort. At least, for as long as I can." The DJ slipped his headphones back on, visibly shaken. Chloe motioned a slight nod in his direction, before heading back out of the door. The situation, compared to ten minutes earlier, was infinitely worse. Trees were beginning to become giant spears, hurtling along the treeline and slamming into the remainder of the forest, tearing out more trees as they went. The doors to the truck were barely movable for the wind, and the driver's door nearly crushed Chloe's arm as they dived into the truck. "So now what?"

Chloe threw the truck into gear and careened back down the trails. "We go into town. There's gotta be something we can do."

 _Arcadia Bay Main Street_

 _12.46 am_

It was around noon when they reached the limits of the Bay, but it looked more like the darkest night imaginable. Already, some of the buildings were beginning to break apart, littering the street with debris. The wind was a little weaker here than up on the hill as the pair staggered out of the truck. Everyone in the street was in disarray.

"Chloe, we gotta do something!"

 _Shit! The other me said specifically not to try and do anything. Not unless I wanna wind up in a bodybag. But there's no way in hell I can bail now!_

Chloe shook her head as she cleared the thought from her mind. "Right. What's the play?"

"I'll check that place, see if I can find anyone alive. You go check there, it seems as though they could use help. Meet here in five." With that, Max begun running towards a house further down the street. A house Chloe swore she recognised from that vision of the future- a future that was now the present- but couldn't quite pin what came next. Nevertheless, she set off in the direction of the semi-damaged building with a car jutting out of the ground floor window. _Someone must've lost control and hit this, no way the winds are up enough yet_. A swift search of the property turned up nothing, but as she clambered back outside, everything begun kicking off as the wind begin to how, scream, louder and harder than she'd ever seen. The heavens opened, a mix of hail and rain hammering into her as she staggered back out into the road. She glanced around, as her view closed down to a few hundred feet.

 _No. It's happening! Just like-_

A sharp crack, as a bolt of lightning cut through her thoughts, felling a wooden pylon, its severed wires landing in a pool of collected water. That same unrecognizable body in the pool, most definitely dead. A slight bump as she felt someone walk into her, shooting a glance and immediately retching slightly, at the overpowering rusty scent. It was Warren, again. His chest and lower neck showered in fragments of glass as they had been in her view of the future, one eye closed, barely coherent, blood pissing from virtually everywhere on his face and neck at once. He collapsed to the ground at her feet, his chest ceasing to move as he lay. Chloe knelt down, fighting the urge to be sick.

 _It is happening. Just like it did there. Wait, MAX!_

She looked up, to see that group, by the I-Beam and the trapped guy. All about to be flattened by a few tons of brick and mortar again. And still, nothing she could do about it.

"GUYS! THAT BUILDING IS GONNA GO! RU-"

The rumbling of falling masonry and structure cut her hollered warning short, as the front wall of the shattered two-story came down atop the would-be helpers. Chloe turned away, unable to stomach seeing that for a second time in three days. A cry of pain down the street caught her attention, and she strained her eyes to see its source. Max, partly pinned beneath a shattered wooden rafter, side of her head bloodied. Her blood ran cold, as everything played out as it had. The gas mains had blown, illuminating the street in an orange glow and making the whole proceeding even more eerie and hella terrifying, if it wasn't already. The winds cut away to almost nothing as Chloe ran toward Max, negotiating the streets littered with debris and whatever else that she didn't want to think about. Max glanced up at her, barely awake, as she wrapped her hands around the beam and prepared to lift it. Yet something didn't feel right, she knew _something_ was about to happen. She had no fucking clue what.

"It's okay Max, I'm gonna get you out of here."

As she begun to stand up and take the weight, something exploded to her right.

"CHLOE, LOOK OUT!"

Everything seemed move in slow motion. Everything finally clicked back into place from her passenger-seat view of this fucked-up future. And that explosion could only mean one thing. Chloe didn't even turn to face what she knew should be her impending death, instead hurling herself backward, silently praying that was out of its path. Almost, but not quite. An edge of the chunk of metal clipped her as it sailed by, catching Chloe across the cheek and spinning her onto the ground, stunning her and leaving a series of gashes across the right hand side of her face.

Max was in hysterics, as she saw Chloe lying motionless. She couldn't even rewind this into place, her right arm had taken the brunt of the falling joist and she couldn't feel her arm, much less move her hand to rewind. As the tears begun to flow, she saw movement. A slight shudder, followed by a foot moving vaguely.

"Chloe! Oh my Dog!" Chloe groaned, as the fogginess in her head receded and she regained sensations in her body- including the giant-ass gouges in her face. All she could hear was Max.

"Dude, calm down! I'm here. Barely." After a few moments, Chloe had gotten up and knocked off some of the dust and dirt and ash that had accumulated on her while she was virtually out for the count. She wrapped her arms once more around the beam. "How did you know that was-" Chloe put a finger across her lips, silencing Max's question mid-sentence. "Now isn't the time. On three: One, Two...Three!" With everything she could summon and more still, Chloe shifted the beam, landing it with a resounding and solid thud on the pavement. She took a hold of Max, as she winced and cried out with the agony of her shoulder.

"Shitballs, dude! Think you can walk?"

"Uh...Agh! Y...Yeah, I think. Crap. Where are we going?"

Chloe looked Max in the eye as she helped her onto her feet and supported her as they made for the truck. "We gotta do something, and you don't want to do it anymore than I do."

"Chloe! We fucking established already this storm isn't on you!"

Chloe growled with frustration in response. "I fucking know that, what we've gotta do is get somewhere safe. And there's only one place I can think of. And I don't wanna go there either." A moment later, the penny seemed to drop, as Max collapsed forward, practically retching. "Fuck. Why does it have to be there, Chlo?" Chloe nodded an acknowledgement as she took hold of her once again, and staggered her over to the door. Helping Max into the far seat as best she could- albeit more or less shoving her into it- she dived into her seat and gunned the truck in the direction of the old Prescott barn.

 _The Barn_

 _1.35 pm_

The roads were a minefield of broken buildings and upchucked vehicles, but Chloe managed to get the truck safely to the barn, which was still open, seeing as how the Feds had been poring over it. All around, it seemed that the Four Horsemen had come to town, as trees, debris, even pieces of vehicle hurtled along the treeline. Chloe, stumbled out of the weather and into the barely-standing barn, Max limping behind. A piece of roofing came loose and fell downward. It wasn't a large piece, but it struck Chloe on the head, crumpling her to the ground. Max fell on top of her, trying in vain to shake her awake. A hundred frightening possibilities thundered through her head as she frantically searched for a response, or _something,_ a sign of life.

"Chloe Elizabeth Price, you are _NOT_ dying on me on this shitty day! Don't you dare give up, not after the shit you've put me through today.

 _A pulse. Fluttering away as frantic as Max's, and a little faint, but it was there._ Max whacked Chloe's unconscious form in the stomach, hugging her tightly.

"You utter bitch, this is the _second_ time you've done that to me in this place! Damn you!" Max exclaimed to herself. Glancing up, she realised more of the roof was coming away, and that if she didn't do something fast then they would both be taking a nap. In this barn. Which was rapidly disassembling itself. Wrapping her one working arm around Chloe and gritting her teeth, she dragged Chloe down the stairs, fighting the agony of her busted arm every time it jarred off of something, dropping her briefly as she reached the solid door that stood between them and- hopefully- safety. With a shaking hand, Max dialled in the code, before tugging the door handle with every ounce of strength she had in her arm. Mercifully, the door opened with little complaint, as Max dragged Chloe over the threshold. As she pulled the door shut, a piece of debris slammed along the narrow passage and into the door, slamming it sealed and knocking her to the ground. The lights were flickering wildly, a sign of just how insane things were getting above ground. Max dropped Chloe onto the couch and collapsed next to her.

"Trust you to have to make me come here, and be alone with my thoughts, Chloe." Already, being in this damned place was torture on her mind, as the 'sessions' of that sick prick begun to flood through her subconscious. She swore she heard his voice, and the click of those infernal shutters once again. All at once, the room was plunged into darkness, save for a reddish glow of emergency lights. Max cuddled up to Chloe as best she could, closed her eyes, and tried her best not to think about what was going on outside. It was just as well she didn't know in the slightest about what Chloe was suffering.

Chloe awoke with a groan to blinding white light. Her head hurt like hell. She tried to raise a hand to nurse the pain, but to her initial confusion, the arm wouldn't do her bidding.

"Ah, she awakens, at last." That _FUCKING_ voice. The white receded in a fashion, replaced by the confines of an off-white chamber. Chloe threw herself forward, aiming to choke the life out of her- it- whatever, but only succeeded in moving a couple of inches before falling back into the seat she'd awoken in. A seat which felt uncomfortable, definitely not the sofa. Wait. Oh shit, surely-

Chloe shot a look down at her limbs in the chair, her wrists and ankles fastened tight to it. Her gorge rose, as her heartbeat raced. The figure loomed into sight.

"good idea, Rachel. Especially after last time." It wasn't the voice of William, and the face wasn't yet clear. A silhouette, but with distinct features. The shape of the hair, the clothing, the posture...

 _Is this real? Fuck, I don't know. They're both meant to be- Am I... dead? Please, no. This can't be happening again!_

"I know, Mark. This way, we get to have all the fun we like." Chloe felt herself dizzying, as though she would pass out. A punch to the chest brought her back into the frame with a yelp of pain.

"You thought dear Max would be safe if you brought her here, didn't you?" Sicko continued, as the slight click of a shutter echoed faintly in the room. "Well, you can't fault the idea. At least, not in principle. You see, _we_ , on the contrary, know the reality. Isn't that right?" Another silhouette appeared in the room, by the couch. A battered figure, hair strewn about, a shoulder looking dislocated. A figure Chloe would recognise anywhere, as her face slightly lit up at the sight of Max, replaced by a look of concern, apprehension, terror.

"Chloe, I know how this looks. I'm sorry I put you through it all." The figure of Max sniffed slightly, tears building up in her eyes. "I should never have fucking left you. But everything's going to be okay. Isn't it?"

Jefferson smirked, as he lowered his camera, drew a handgun from his waistband, and levelled it squarely at her chest.

 _"NO!"_

Everything went mute. A flash, as the gun released its lethal payload. Time seemed to freeze as the bullet slammed into her chest. The figure slumped to one side of the couch, crimson beginning to soak through the thin T-shirt. A vacant expression on her face, of surprise,

Tears flowed freely from Chloe's eyes as she sunk back into the restraints, a feeling inside her as though they'd reached in and torn her heart from its place.

"Max..."

A whoosh of air and a solid connection of metal across the side of her head, as the base of the gun connected with her cheek.

"So melodramatic. This is your biggest downfall, bitch: you become so attached to one or two people in your life, that in losing them...you become nothing. Take a lok at William: the reason you set off down this path in the first place. And my lovely assistant here," gesturing at Rachel, "who- in all your time together- you never once stopped to consider what you were doing. Breaking and entering, theft, perverting the course of justice. And that was all in the space of half a fucking hour. Now, Think of that over the nearly _three_ years you spent together. So blinded by her love, that you failed to see her for who she truly was."

Chloe opened her eyes to see Rachel preparing something at the other end of the room. Jefferson had disappeared from view.

"Why," Chloe sobbed, "Why is this fucking happening?"

Rachel returned, with something resembling a prod, connected to the mains. "This is happening, Chloe," said Rachel with an evil smile, "And there is no reason why. So, you sit back and enjoy." With that, she jammed the prod into Chloe's chest. Chloe screamed, as the electricity coursed through her form, setting her nerve endings alight. After a time- Chloe was too agonised to even guess at how long- the prod was removed. As Chloe sighed with relief, it begun again. Longer, this time. Chloe swore she could see sparks and arcs of electricity in her sight.

"Now, isn't this fun?" Chloe shook her head, fervently, as Rachel reached for another item. "More fun than we ever had together. So sad to see you've replaced me with her."

Another swish, followed up by the sickening crack of her ribs being broken. Chloe tipped her head back as she howled in pain.

"What makes you think she even cares about you?"

Another hit. It felt like a lung had been burst this time. Chloe tried to scream, to find she couldn't, as breathing became more and more of a challenge.

"She abandoned you for five-ish-years."

Another, this time into the softer organs below her shattered ribcage. Chloe emitted a high-pitched squeal, as another part of her body felt like it had been burst.

"FIVE. FUCKING. YEARS!"

With a cry of anger, the bat came through again, hitting her squarely across one side of the face and no doubt breaking her jaw, as well as teeth. Chloe could barely feel it other than a numb connection, the other injuries already taking their toll. Her sight fogged, bathing the room in a crimson tint. Her pulse thundered in her head as sound and sight slurred ever further

"What fucking part of you thinks that is right? Or fair on me?!" Rachel screamed at her, gripping her face with one hand as the bat hung loose in the other.

"Y...ou're...dead...a...nd...she...she's...mine..." Chloe mumbled through all the injuries, as she forced her face into a wry smile. "A...nd...you're not...taking her from...me."

An anguished scream, followed by one final swing of the bat into her head. The foggy, bloodied view she had of the room and her tormentor was replaced by black.

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _Okay, so that happened. The sequence toward the latter half of the chapter involving Chloe is to try and deviate the ethereal side of things from being like the First Evil (thanks for pointing that out, BenRG, It gave me a good enough heads-up) and trying t introduce some level of nightmare for Chloe, as Max had. I can't write nightmare scenes especially well, so this was about the closest I could do to anything decent._**

 ** _Next chapter is likely to be the last, as I'm unsure as to whether I wanna do an epilogue. This won't be the end of the story however. More on that when it's relevant._**

 ** _UPDATE: 10-04-2018, 1646_** **_GMT_**

 ** _Next update to the story will be set back. My computer- or maybe the Netgear adapter- has decided to go on strike so I can't get online. I would finish the story in my phone- same way I'm typing this update- but it'd be murder. I'll give you all more info as I can provide it._**

 ** _Sincere apologies,_**

 ** _B._**

 ** _1737 GMT_**

 ** _Problem solved. Who knew a damaged driver- which was working fine an hour earlier- could play such hell with a computer? Finale will hopefully be completed by sometime next week._**


	19. Here Comes The Sun

**_It's not normally my MO to put some of my notes in at the start of the chapter, but I wanted to explain the title. I was going to call this finale "Absolution" in reference to Muse's song, but the title I've gone with fits more, especially with the song in my head when I think over the later events of this chapter. And no, it's not The Beatles or any of that which I'm referring to, though it is a song._**

 ** _I'll reference it later on, and you shouldn't be able to miss it. Hopefully. Enjoy this finale and I hope you've enjoyed the ride._**

Chloe felt her senses buzz groggily back into life with a coppery taste in her mouth. Her eyes flicked open, to find the almost surgical white had been replaced by a dim red.

"Can you do me a favour, Chloe, and stop giving me fucking death scares?"

Chloe almost dived onto the new and pissed-off voice, to a surprised and agitated yelp. Max prised Chloe off her with her good arm, pinning her to one end of the couch. "Have you _any_ idea how much of a nightmare being in here's been for me, reliving what that creep did to me over and over?"

Chloe scoffed. "You have no fucking idea, hippie." With that, she wrapped an arm around Max and pulled her closer, their lips connecting once more.

"Say, what's with the creepy lighting in here?"

Max frowned. "It went out a while ago, just after I dragged your ass in here. Guess everything outside must be pretty wild."

"A while ago?"

Max shrugged. "No idea. My phone got smashed when that joist came down on top of me." A slightly more fearful look came into her eyes. "Do you think...did anyone get out alive?"

Chloe stretched slightly, noting how sore and stiff she felt, before standing. That settling sensation inside her was probably matching Max's. "One way to find out. Let's make like a tree and get the hell outta Dodge." As Chloe turned the handle and pushed the door, nothing happened. The door didn't move at all. Chloe frowned. "Shit. Give me a hand." Max tried as well, but still to no avail.

"Shit! Shit shit shit!" Chloe cursed at the door, hammering a fist against it to no effect.

Max looked ready to have a major meltdown. "We aren't getting out of here, are we? we're gonna fucking die down here!"

"Not on your life, Max. On three: one, two-" the pair threw themselves at the door as hard as they could. It cracked open by about a foot.

"Boo-y-" Chloe's exultation was cut short, as the steel was replaced by several tons of water, knocking the pair flat and pushing them up against a wall in the corner of the room. Chloe spluttered, coughing up water. "Jeez..." The room must've had at least two or three inches of water in it by the time the torrent balanced out.

"That explains the door being stuck." Max muttered, trudging to Chloe.

"No shit. But if this is how bad _this_ place is..."

Max nodded, her skin paler than normal. Emerging from the hatch, Chloe being supported by Max, the barn and its contents had virtually disappeared. Well, not exactly disappeared, but were now strewn in an area about a quarter of a mile across. The trees all around were flattened, and the truck was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, shit. Looks like we're walking." As the pair crossed what had once been the giant doors to the barn, Max froze.

"Who the fuck..."

Off to their left, with her back against a power pylon that had been snapped in two and smoking... it was her. Barely visible, flickering even more than Chloe had seen before. A large portion of her body didn't appear to be there, but it was her.

"Max Caulfield... meet the only reason I'm not in the ground."

The figure flicked away whatever it was smoking, it vanishing into thin air.

"Hell, Price. Here I was, thinking you listened."

Chloe smirked. "I did. That giant-ass piece of metal didn't fly-swat me, did it?"

Other-Chloe cocked her head, staring inquisitively at the fresh scarring on Chloe's cheek. "Almost. But, I'll give you that. Bet you're wondering what I'm doing here?"

Chloe nodded. "Pretty sure you said that if I survived yesterday- which I have, unless this is some other fucked-up realm- then you would cease to be along with that hell."

Other-Chloe shrugged, gesturing as Chloe frequently did. "That's what I thought. Don't ask me, I didn't write the rules on a million timelines in parallel. I'm just the poor schmuck that got caught up in this whirlwind like you did. Anyway, good to see you've kept Maxi in one piece. Kinda."

Max chuckled. "So, wait, which one of you is Chloe and which one isn't? Or are you both Chloe? Shit, this hurts my head."

Both Chloes snickered slightly. "We're both the same person, Max, it's just That I never originally came from this timeline. _But_ , given how the universe and time and all that shit was full of holes, after the amount of time-hopping your other selves did, I fell through. Into this timeline. Right after _that_ dumbass," Other-Chloe explained, "got said ass shot. And voila, the start of how all this happened."

Chloe scowled at her alter-self, as another question popped into her head. "Yeah, and the start of living hell for me. Speaking of which, last night. What the hell was that about? I had some seriously messed-up crossover to _that_ place. What the hell was that for?"

Other-Chloe looked confused. "Say what? I didn't have any idea you'd crossed over again. "

Now Chloe took her turn to wear the confused look. "You mean you had nothing to do with it?"

"Nada. Don't even know what you're talking about. You do look a little worse for wear though, so that explains a lot."

"You mean what they did to me...?"

"Yeah. Look, last night, the continuum almost got broken, _again_ , because _you_ dodged your grave by a hair. Twice. Have you any idea how much that pisses off 'Ol Grimmy? My guess is that he might've had something to do with it, if anyone in this picture. In case you never watched Final Destination, death hates people living when they should be a smear on the side of a railroad container."

Chloe grimaced, as she swore she felt the jab of that prod once more. "Breaking me? I thought Max was the key to this."

"The hell, Chloe?"

Other-Chloe raised a hand, silencing the pair. "She's right, Max. But in her own way, Chloe- I- have a place in that, too. Without her, you'd break apart, Max. You have once before, right? I saw what happened too, very touching on Chloe's part. Anyway, because of how many timelines are running in tandem and conflicting and clashing, things got pretty messy. If you two both hadn't made it this time... there would be no continuum. Simple as that. As far as I know, I'm just the lackey." Other-Chloe clarified once more, imitating an explosion with her hands.

Max butted in. "About last night. Chloe knew that chunk of metal was coming, didn't she?" Other-Chloe crossed her arms and smiled, craning her neck back to touch her head on the damaged wood.

"Uh-huh. I showed her what happened to me."

Max groaned. "Dogdammit, we haven't survived at all. The universe-"

"Won't even know it happened. I took her to _my_ timeline and trapped her in my version of herself, on a look-but-don't-touch basis. That alternate timeline's being overwritten as we speak, and me with it.", gesturing at her diminished form. "That way, it couldn't mess anything up. No nexus points, no fractured timeline events, no big-ass tornadoes... we all win. Well, you two win. I think my boss is gonna kill me, for all the damage I've done. Go on, both of you." With that, Other-Chloe shooed the pair with a wave of the hand. As they started out along the track, she called after Chloe once more.

"And Chlo'?"

They stopped. "Yeah?"

"Take good care of Max. She's unique."

A tear formed in the corner of Chloe's eye. "I know. I will. Godspeed, or whatever it is they say. And one last thing: I though it was due next month?"

Other-Chloe laughed, as the rest of her body trickled away to nothingness. "Satan-speed, more like it. You got this, now go before I try taking over your body or something weird. And as for that, the curse said _by_ the ninth. Not exactly on it." With that, the other iteration, the one that Chloe had come to love and despise in equal parts, the single deciding factor in Chloe's survival, faded away, replaced by- of course. Of all the things that she could become, it would be _that_.

Max hugged Chloe tighter, both tearful, as they saw the frail blue creature's wings flutter, and its small form float away on the wind, climbing higher, and higher, until at last it vanished into the pristine day.

"It's...is it...?"

Chloe gripped Max tighter, as they stood amid the wrecked remains. "Yeah, Max. C'mon, we got a long walk ahead."

 _600 yards later..._

"Holy shit, that's where it went." Chloe's truck had turned up a ways down the track, all wheels attached, but looking considerably worse for wear. However, it was the right way up, so that was a start. "Chloe, there's no way in hell that thing's gonna still be working."

Chloe glared at her. "Don't doubt my truck. She'll start. Probably."

Max slipped onto the soaked passenger's seat, as Chloe slotted her 'key' (or, as Max saw it, a screwdriver) into the ignition and turned it. The starter turned over with a whine, but not much else. Again. Nothing.

"Fucking start, damn you!" With that, Chloe slammed her palm down on the dash. As though it sensed her plight, the engine spluttered once, twice, and finally kicked into life, albeit misfiring a little.

"Hell yes! How'd you like that, Max?" Chloe exclaimed, with a belated laugh. Max rolled her eyes and huffed, fuelling Chloe's laughter, as they pulled onto the road. There was less debris than either expected, but it was still cluttered on the roads.

"Where now?"

"Home, or what's left of it. Grab some stuff, and head south.. Unless you've a better plan."

"Cali sounds good to me, Chlo." The roads looked ever worse as they approached the Bay, until they stopped short of a flooded section on the road, overlooking the main street. Most of it was three feet underwater, and nothing remained standing. Chloe went white.

"God... I think I'm gonna be sick." She slipped out of the door, falling to her knees against the shattered asphalt. Max slipped across and jumped out the same door, putting an arm around Chloe.

"I...I always hated this place. But seeing it like this-" Max put her head against Chloe's as they overlooked the ruins, running a hand through her hair. "I know. We did everything we could, maybe some people survived. Come on, we gotta walk from here anyway."

The streets leading the Chloe's house were surreal. Everything seemed the same, but was so much different. The further from the shoreline, it seemed, the less damaged everything was. Like some sick joke from the universe, the only house that was practically pristine was hers. Max went upstairs to pack some essentials and clothes, while Chloe checked the house over. She came to the cooker to find a note, pinned under the pan.

 _Chloe,_

 _If you're reading this, we're okay. We got your message in time, just before the sirens sounded._

 _We'll try to contact you after this passes. Failing that, we're headed for Seattle. Joyce managed to get hold of Max's parents, and they've agreed to let us head there for refuge. They were worried about you two, Max especially, but I told them not to worry. I told them she's in safe hands. Your hands._

 _For maybe the first time since we've known each other, I fully trust you on this._

 _Be safe,_

 _David._

Chloe's heart skipped a couple of beats. They were alive. Maybe. Probably. She drew her phone, punching in David's number. She hit call, to find a beeping replaced the dial tone. Confused, she stared at the screen, which stared back blank at her.

 _NO SIGNAL._

"Well, duh, Chloe." Chloe almost jumped into the sink with a startled scream. She jumped back down from the counter, delivering a pair of solid punches into Max's shoulder.

"Dammit Max, wear a bell or something! You almost freakin' killed me!"

Max grimaced, before raising an eyebrow. "Again? Shame. But anyway, it's no surprise that the cell signal is outta here." Chloe concurred.

"Yeah, I guess. Big-ass apocalypse storm and all. You got our gear?"

"Yeah. Let's beat it, I'm feeling less comfortable the longer we stay here."

Chloe nodded, taking her by the hand and leading her back to the truck. They took another route through town, seeing as how the main road was totally out of use. Unfortunately for Max, it led right by Blackwell. That was torture enough for a few weeks. The majority of the structure was intact, save for the odd tree sticking out of a wall. Maybe people had sought refuge here? Max wasn't sure.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Max. If you want my opinion, the place looks hella better like that."

Max shot her a deathly glare.

"Just trying to lighten the mood." At this moment, Chloe's stereo picked up a signal from one of her regular stations, still playing music. Chloe turned it up before Max could protest. She gave Chloe a curious stare as the song boomed out.

"Metal? Okay, who are you and when did you replace my Chloe?"

She laughed, flipping Max the bird. "I'm still punk at heart, Mad Max. It's just this song... it's something else."

"It's in freakin' German, that's what 'else'."

"Yeah, but aside from that... it's a pretty surreal song. The video's even more."

Max just about registered the words. "Oh. That... that makes some more sense now. Surreal song, surreal day right?"

Chloe smiled a little, the first she really had in at least a dew days, as the blitzed urban landscape gave way to a shattered wooded road.

"You betch- Shit!" Chloe stamped on the brakes, barely halting the truck before a wrecked ambulance that lay round the corner. Its driver's compartment was totally wrecked, a tree having flattened it totally. The rear was damaged, but at least from this angle it appeared largely intact.

Max hopped out, followed closely by Chloe, the instumental of the truck's music still faintly audible. "What are we doing?"

 _'Eins- Hier kommt die sonne...'_

Max shrugged. "Might as well check it. Just to be safe."

They peered round the corner of the doorframe, the metal door having torn off, expecting to see a badly mangled corpse. Instead...

"Is... is that-?" Max nodded a reply to the bewildered Chloe.

"Yeah. It is."

Max clambered into the damaged rear or the ambulance, trying to see if the firgure was alive. Two fingers to the side of her neck, revealing a pulse. Breathing, her chest rising and falling albeit quickly. Max pulled the young woman up off the gurney and dragged her to where Chloe could get a hold of her.

"Max, you sure we shouldn't just leave her?"

A stern look in return. "Positive. Better we find her than someone less caring. C'mon."

 _'Fünf, Hier kommt die sonne...'_

Chloe handed Max their companion's arm as she got back into the truck, before both squeezed onto the bench once more.

 _Sieben, sie ist der hellste Stern von allen...'_

A glance exchanged telling one another everything that they were thinking, and Chloe pulled away.

 _'Acht, neun, Hier kommt die sonne-'_

Onward, south, towards a new fate, a new reality, a new world.

 _'Aus.'_

* * *

On the shattered remains of the headland, a sole morpho floated down toward the remains of a bench, alighting upon it. A black raven, slightly weather-beaten, landed beside it. With a soft glow, the two figures appeared.

"Well, you sure went and did it this time, kiddo."

"I know. But it worked, right?"

The older figure tilted his head slightly, as though to concede the point. "Indeed it did, Chloe. It's just that I wish there'd been a way we could've prevented this again. It'd be nice if Mom didn't have to get a job elsewhere, because the Two Whales is now a flatpack."

Other-Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Prevented it? What would you like me to do, go back to 18-whatever and stop the curse from being created?"

The older figure laughed. "I don't know, maybe that could've worked."

Other-Chloe gave him her trademark scowl "Could've? I thought you were meant to know that answer. You _run_ this damn show, godsake."

"Another one for the swear jar!" The figure ruffled her hair to a slight childlike squeak. "Boss or not, there's secrets of the universe that even I haven't discovered yet. Anyway, I suppose this world is good enough."

Other-Chloe leaned back on the remains of the bench, wrapping and arm around the figure and hugging him. "Yeah. For now, I suppose it is. Woulda been nice if they'd had more warning, though."

The figure raised an eyebrow, comically. "What would you like Bloody Bill to do, Bluebeard, go back and tell the natives to make the curse hit on _exactly_ that day?"

The two chuckled over the thought of terrified-looking Native Americans at the sight of ghosts such as themselves, as they sat and watched the smoke, rising from the smouldering ruins of Downtown Arcadia Bay, before once again alighting in their forms and disappearing into the sky.

 ** _And that is this story at its culmination. I may add a further section after this as a QA to cover points that I may not have made too clear, but for now that's all._**

 ** _The song, by the way, is 'Sonne' by Rammstein. Listen to it or watch the music video- especially around the instrumental- and you might see why I picked it._**

 ** _Also, for those who wanna know who they collected... you'll have to wait and see. Next story may not be written for a while, I'm still seriously having to think about how I wanna write it. Location is likely to be CA, possibly Los Angeles but I haven't quite decided._**

 ** _NEWSFLASH: As of 20th April 2018, I have begun the inaugural chapter of my new story. Sticking with the theme of titles around Horizons, the next story will be called 'A New Horizon'. If someone has a better idea for a title, do please share it as title and chapter names are a NIGHTMARE for me to come up with._**

 ** _I was going to do a Q &A for this story, but I've decided part of the new story's first chapter is going to be a Q&A of sorts to better explain some things, which I believed weren't too well explained. Updates will be posted on my profile description until the first chapter comes out._**

 ** _Until next time,_**

 ** _B._**


	20. Author Note

**AUTHOR NOTE**

 **Well, folks, I suppose it was going to be the case some day or other, but today is that day.**

 **Effective immediately, I'll be moving my activity over to AO3. I've already set up shop there and got a few stories up and running, and my aim is to have all the LiS stories moved across by the end of the week. Overwatch stories which I've written will be staying here permanently.**

 **I'll still check this account periodically for the sake of correspondence as I'm not as ignorant as some would make out. I'll also be on here to read stories based here anyway, the only change being that no further upsates will be made.**

 **Why, you may ask? Well, despite a lack of a mobile app and a shorter store time for draft chapters, I find AO3 is somewhat easier to use.** **Formatting tools are up to more, the general editing mode is slicker and it'seasier for me to keep track of reviews and feedback**

 **Find my account** **under the same name as this account, Blackadder261.**

 **Until next time, guys.**

 **P.S: This is a standardised message across all existing stories. All stories, complete or otherwise, will remain in their current state.** **All unfinished stories will be retagged as incomplete so as to avoid provoking any issues.**


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